When All Is Missing
by Akky-chan
Summary: Allen never came back that night. Two years have passed now, and he's starting to be forgotten. No one but Lavi and Komui know the full extent of what happened... Until he returns. POST CHAPT 166! RodAl chap 7! Not as crappy as it sounds, but T for safety
1. We Waited Two Years

**...those of you who are waiting for my crossover... Internet was down for a week, don't blame me! **

**This is based off a dream I had BEFORE chapter 166 came out, so... it was ever creepier... and so, now I'm writing a fic on it. If anyone from dA is here, let me know if you don't mind ANOTHER slow-moving story to come up on there ; eheheh... **

**Anyway, this is a no-pairing thing, except for maybe friendsships pairing and brotherly Lavi and Johnny (Johnn's a boy, right? The hairstyle and his clothes were made for a guy, so I'm guessing...). **

**I don't know how long this is going to be, but if it starts becoming filler crap and total cleches, someone let me know at the first signs, so I can save this fic before I completely rin out of ideas! (the dream left many holes, so this is mostly compensation.)**

**Pardon my crappy spelling and grammar. I have problems like that. Coments, critique, I'll even take flames if you want! But no flaming Lenalee! IF YOU FLAME LENALEE, MY OC KILL YOU! (those on my dA know Fifteen, and they know not to mess with him). (PS, don't worry, there will be no Ocs in here if I can help it!!)**

**If I owned d.gray-man, why the hell would I need to make this a fanfic? I WOULD PUT IT IN CANON!**

**enjoy!**

"Or should I say, Fourteenth?" The Crow Brigade around the room, at Cross's words, charged forward and seized Allen. They locked his legs and hitched his breathing. His voice was stuck and his arms wouldn't have moved anyway.

He fell to the floor and lay in a quivering yet frozen position, on his side. He looked up and around desperately for someone to help him, Lavi, Komui, even his Master... why? Why had his master done it? Why had he sold Allen like this? Why did it have to be right after he finally learned the truth he was betrayed?

..Why?

Levirrier smiled down on him. "As I said before, Allen Walker, number Fourteen." Allen tried desperately to breath despite the strang pain in his lungs. He tried to speak out, to scream that he was innocent, but he couldn't. "You're going to follow my orders, now."

Johnny and Lenalee felt dread flooding through them suddenly, as though all the air had been forced out of their body and the air around them had been turned to thick, unmoveable ice. They had to stay up late for when Allen came back, but...

"Lenalee..." Johnny siad quietly. Lenalee turned her head slowly to look at her friend. Lenalee's eyes were wet, they wouldn't stop tearing up. Why? "Lenalee... I think he may really not come back."

Two streams of tears finally escaped her.

"Johnny, he's really not, is he?"

And so passed two years. Allen Walker, had never come back, and people were slowly forgetting him. Those who had once known him were beginning to die off and only was he heard of from the mouths of exorcists, scientists who had a break, and Jerry whenever someone ordered a large meal, when he would sigh and say he missed the little cutie who would order mountains, and the occasional older finder, talking disdainfully about a traitor. He was found among gossipers who wondered exactly who this strange boy called Allen was, but no matter who they heard of him from, the name was spoken either sadly or angrily. No one would say exactly what had happened, as no one truly knew, however, they did know that the night before the new headquarters was fully moved into, he had vanished. Only Lenalee, Johnny, Lavi, Komui and several scientists had seen him after he had boarded that boat.

Lenalee and Johnny would always begin to cry when the subject came up. "He really didn't come back" they both said. Komui would stare the person down and say in a harsh voice that was not his, "He is none of your concern, and I shall alert you if he ever does." The scientists said he had opened portals to let everyone in, but said nothing about how. Only that he hadn't been seen afterwards.

Lavi the Bookman was the only known exorcist to have seen exactly what happened, but he was as tight-lipped as all the rest. "Allen was lied to, and in the most horrible way. You don't need to know anymore." An uncharacteristic sadness would hang about him for several hours afterwards, as though he were going through details in his mind's photographic memory. People soon learned not to question him on the subject.

Slowly, Allen Walker was becoming nothing more than a person to be wondered about after eating. A phantom, wandering the halls of the Black Order, waiting for someone to truly remember him.

The only thing anyone seemed willing to devilge was what he was like.

"He was very kind and strong, he would cheer you up whenever, no matter how horrible he himself was feeling, and he would always be there to help you if you needed help." Miranda would say.

"The first time I met him and talked with him face-on, he yelled at me," Krory said, "Because I didn't want to live after I lost my love. He gave me a reason to live and he and Lavi were my first real friends..."

"The stupid beansprout wouldn't stop fighting, even if you ripped his goddamn arm off... which he managed to do, once." Kanda would say heatedly. "He always made these promises about the exact same thing over and over, I think he had a complex... worse than Komui's, even."

"He was a little like a stray cat... He looked so innocent and had these really sad eyes, but he could make you love him with just a smile." Reever would sigh. "Then, while it looked like the slightest touch would break him to pieces, you had to remember all cats have claws."

"He was short, odd looking, cursed, would do the most absurd things if it would help his friends, and saw the world as a living hell, but kept living anyway. " Lavi mumbled softly. "He was like my little brother."

"Allen was polite until you really got to know him, then, he would occasionally slip up and be casual. He was really strong, even if he didn't look it, and he was really unlucky. Allen would jump in front of you to stop a bullet if he had to, and he would hide all his problems from us, just so we wouldn't worry." Lenalee would start crying whenever he was mentioned. "He didn't want to hurt people, and even tried to save his enemies once, because they were human. He called it saving, not destroying... And then... I hated his eye... his goddamn eye was what made him do those things..."

"He was just that person who would do anything for anyone else. You knew you had screwed up really badly if he genuinely hated you." Johnny said. "Allen... really made me want to believe the war could be won."

And still, this was never nearly enough for the crowds of people in the Order who wanted to know who exactly this boy was. This boy who had made such a stir in the Order and it's exorcists. And two years after his disappearance off the Earth, Komui received a letter from Inspector Malcom Levirrier of central command. He stood up sharply from his desk and yelled for Reever.

Reever ran across the room, shocked at Komui, who never worked nor answered letters. Then he saw the return. Komui looked at him like something was causing him great pain.

"Reever, Levirrier is returning to inspect the Order again... Allen's become his..."

Reever grasped around for a fitting word. "Assistant? Bodyguard? Servant? His what?"

Komui just shook his head. "I don't know, but..." Komui collapsed in his chair and held his head. "Reever, it just doesn't seem right..."

A boat carrying Levirrier, Link, and Allen Walker arrived a week later. By that time, the news had spread like a virus that the infamously cryptified Allen Walker was returning along with two from central command.


	2. Who Are You?

**Remember when you're reading this people, it's not yaoi, it's brotherly love. I promise, there is probably going to be little or no romance (except a little bit, here and there, but no declarations of love or anything). Why? Because I have a very hard time stomaching that sort of thing. Sorry to all the fans, but there will be no mushies in here if I can help it. The only real pairings are friendship and the possibility of some RoadxAllen (Tiger, if you're reading this, I'm sorry, It's not going to be like in _Noah's Slave_... but I STILL love that and may get a few fics up eventually!)**

**Okay, I'm still sort of figuring out the typing system on (apparently, I cant space things with plus signs anymore... poohey, it looks so much nicer than 000...if that doesn't come up, we'll have ANOTHER that doesn't work) **

**Okay. Cleche here, but I'm gonna try and play it up to it's fullest. I already have the plot moving, in my opinion, way too fast, so I'll try and slow it down and little and stretch it into more longer chapters. **

**This came out really fast because it was already half written (I cut the first chapter in half to give you a cliffhanger ; ), and the others may not come out nearly as fast. The people on my dA know very well what I mean... what's my record... three months or something? It was a major block and lack of motivation.**

**OKAY! I think I'm done now! People wanted a fast update, so they got their wish (but man, I really don't like saying much in one chapter, do I?)! Apologies for spelling/grammar/other issues in writing this, cuz those are my weakest ponts. ENJOY!**

**Disclamer: If I owned D.Gray-Man, you wouldn't be reading this on a fanfic website, you'd be reading it in next weeks _Weekly Shonen Jump_, dungbrians.**

The boat was magnificent. A majestic, strong and large vessel, with black, silver and red paint being it's only decorations. The stern and bow were long and the hand carved wooden maiden at the hull could only be called an angel. When the boat docked, and the steps were lowered dramatically, all hope of ever seeing the enigmic Allen Walker vanished, as only two people stood at the walkway.

Levirrier walked down slowly, enjoying the sound of his new boots on the hard oak steps leading off the boat. Following to his left, Link walked behind him like a watch dog, golden hair still tied back into a pony tail and swishing from side to side. How they could still wear those suits in the hot July sun was a mystery to all below. Even the exorcists, who's coats were well aired, had to be forced to wear them, and they only did because they had to show respect to Levirrier.

That was when they noticed the third figure. He was not much taller than Link, but shorter than Levirrier. He or she, though most of the people below already determined the figure was male, was not in a suit like the two inspectors, but in a black trenchcoat with a hood covering his face. He walked so closely behind Levirrier and Link that he had been taken as a shadow before.

His hands were both in his pockets and there was a winged golden ball, about the size, or perhaps slightly larger, than a tennis ball, perched on his shoulder. It's tail, which ended in a puff of golden cotton the size of it's actual body, was long and wrapped around the boy's neck. As long, if not longer than it's wings.

Levirrier turned and smiled at the figure for a moment. "Walker, take your hood down, it's impolite." The figure replied by carefully unfastening the latch around his neck and letting the hood drop down. White hair lay in windswept locks, unevenly, yet strangely it seemed to do nothing to detriment his appearance. His skin was deathly pale, the norm after a long battle with a sickness almost, and a very thin scar elapsed over his left eye, starting at an upside-down star on his forehead, and twisting down in a strange pattern to a teardrop shape off his chin.

His eyes were gray like storm clouds or dirtied snow. This was Allen Walker, wasn't it?

All eyes were on the youth who had grown several inches since he had vanished two years ago. His eyes were more stern now, much less joy and life in them, even those who had never known him could see it. He spoke no words but cracked a small smile that was not his own. It held no sadness and no joy, no longing or regret or pain or even a slight awkwardness. It was just there. Empty as his eyes were now.

Komui stepped forward slowly and bowed respectfully. Link and Levirrier bowed as well, though it was mostly a jerk of the head. Allen bowed low enough to be respectful, but only Allen. Komui swallowed hard, now that he could see Allen close up. His eyes weren't even their usual clouded gray, but more white than anything else, except fot the left eye. It was a faint shade darker, but still empty as his smile. Komui led the way inside.

"How long do you plan to stay, Inspector?" Komui inquired. Levirrier smiled in a way to make milk curdle.

"Two months, at the most, I assume." He said. Komui nodded and led the way to his new main office. When they reached, Levirrier stopped abruptly before entering. "Allen, stay outside a moment, if you would." Allen smiled again and took several steps back before turning on the door as it closed.

Komui was silent as he walked behind his desk, the inspector sat on the couch while Link stood, back straight as a plank behind him. The papers were as scattered as they had always been, and maps lined the walls behind Komui's desk while shelves were filled with books and archives, some recognizable as those the bookmen had lent the Order.

"I must say, Komui Lee," Leveirrier began cheerily. "he new headquarters looks much more impressive than I expected." Komui took that as a compliment. He had worked hard to bring the new Order up to the point where it could hold it's head proudly in the face of the Earl and death itself.

"Thank you very much, Inspector." Komui said. "How is Allen faring?" He asked, trying not to put much pressure on the topic, but ask in more of a casual way, like it were normal to ask. It actually was, and so, it hadn't come out too awkwardly.

"He's doing quite well." Levirrierr stated proudly. "He's been excelling in combat, his Noah powers, and is possibly the most obedient soldier I have." Komui nodded.

"So he's a soldier, now?" Levirrier smiled.

"In his own way. He's become something of a special brigade all in himself. Strong and powerful, never questioning his orders or submitting to emotions that are not his." He smiled so horribly, Komui felt as though it were two years ago, when Levirrier was scolding Cross Marian for vanishing for so long and returning with an enemy. Sending him into the Order while knowing Allen's true nature. It had been a debate for the life of a child.

"How did you get him so... emotionless? I've never seen him so unresponsive..." Komui said softly. He was terrified by this new Allen, if he were being completely truthful. He wanted the over-reactive, happy, unlucky and short fifteen-year-old who was terrified of alcohol and became traumatized whenever the word 'debt' came up.

Levirrier's smile did not fade, it grew wider. He liked this subject. "Hypnosis, injections, and lessons when he did not obey. He was quite disruptive at first, but the moment someone was about to be injured in the slightest, he would panic and stop. How you managed to make him work as an exorcist for almost a year, I honestly don't know, Komui Lee." Levirrier shook his head skeptically. Komui tried not to grit his teeth as he imagined what Allen had gone through before attaining this state. This state that blocked out everything.

"Lots of people in the Order are curious about Allen." Komui supplied, hoping to be a good cover. Levirrier looked at him inquiringly.

"How so, may I ask?"

"They know that he vanished two years ago," Komui explained. "It's mostly been hushed up, but those closest to him and gossipers have leaked some information. Not much, mostly that he vanished without a trace, but it's enough to make people curious."

Levirrier nodded, his fingers laced together and elbow resting on his knee. "Things our bound to get loose I suppose." He sighed and fingered his mustache. "Pity so soon. However, I must say, Allen is truly a remarkable specimen."

000

Allen stood quietly outside the door. He did not bounce slightly or check for time, he just stood. Several of the people passing him gave him odd looks but continued on their way. Occasionally, he would see a face he thought he recognized, but shrugged it off, thinking he was imagining things. He had had strange dreams before about him being at this order, fighting some Akuma like a normal exorcist, but he had never believed in them. Levirrier had told him that he had never been an exorcist and the people he recognized or those that recognized him were simply imagining things.

There were dreams when you would meet people and later, you really would meet them. Allen figured that was simply what was going on. It was a tug at the end of his subconscious which ment he had dreamed about them and forgotten the dream. It was simple and clean, like a cut from his weapon.

Everything, he like everything simple. No over-reactions, no extra questions, he liked to be told something straight out and have it be true rather than have to dig around for truth and make things so complicated everything became a dead end. That was why he didn't mind obeying the Inspector.

Inspector Levirrier told him everything in a brisk and to-the-point way, saying exactly what he wanted and he would take nothing less. Levirrier did not have some secret assignment you had to figure out of your own, but rather, he would tell you that you had to do something and if you didn't, you were dead.

Simple, clean-cut. He took Allen, a person imbeded with the powers of a Noah, and had him fight. Allen had no recollection of before he had awoken to see Levirrier looming over him. He was in immense pain and strapped down onto the bed like a mental patient. That was his first memory. Not exactly a pleasant one, but it was what he had. He had been born fifteen and lived as a seventeen year old while he was, in memory's affairs, only two.

It is strange to just wake up one day and have no memory of the first fifteen years of your life, to have white hair and a deformed arm, and a scar over your face. He collapsed the first time he had seen an akuma, the pain in his head had been nearly unbearable. What he had seen hadn't exactly appealed either. He had been immobile for a minute or so, before his left arm had consented to activate.

Afterwards, he learned how to force the invokation. His left arm burned occasionally, but it was hardly anything he couldn't stand.

"Allen?" He turned his head slightly to the side and looked at the one who called his name. A young man with blazing red hair who looked distinctly familiar.

"Lavi Bookman Junior?" Allen asked in a monotone. The first words he had actually spoken that day. Most of the time, he stayed silent, listening, and nothing more. He had nothing to say.

000

Lavi stood there, sticken. Allen never once had addressed him with his Bookman title, nor called him Junior, even though Lavi had given him premission to when they had first met.

"Allen? Is that you? I mean, honest to God, are you Allen Walker?" Lavi could have cried out at the annoyed looked Allen shot him. It looked like Allen, it sounded like Allen, though the voice may have been ever so slightly deeper than two years ago. Not by much, but Lavi's trained ears picked it up, though just barely.

"Yes, I am Allen Walker." He said testily. It was his rhythm, it was his straight-forwardness and politeness. It was his white, three-layered, double-stitched gloves hiding in his pockets. It was Allen Walker, but the tone and mood and the slight aura around him were all wrong.

Lavi ignored that. He had seen it all, and it all replayed in his mind at that moment. Allen being bound and dragged away, struggling with all his body had. He had been silent as they had closed his voice with some sort of magic, like the talismens on his arm, but his eyes had told the story of pure fear and denial. His little brother had been stolen away to God-knows what?

"I thought they killed you, you idiot..." It didn't matter if people in the halls were listening in on the very one-sided conversation. It didn't matter if he was breaking the Bookman code by letting that one tear slide down his cheek from his left eye.

"Pardon, what?" Allen said harshly. "I apologize, Bookman Junior, but other than your name, I don't know who the hell you are."

000

"Why did you even bring him if you did that?" Komui demanded. "You know that being here might trigger some sort of reaction!" _Please, let him react. No one should be stuck like that._

"I know that quite well, Komui Lee," Levirrier said. "However, it is something of an... experiment, if you will." He said, resting his head on his hand, looking somewhat deranged. "If he holds, then the experiment was a success and can be used on unwilling allies." An insane grin came over his face.

Komui suppressed a shudder. He hated that horrible supposed display of enjoyment.

"And one more thing, Komui Lee..." Komui looked back up from the papers on his desk, which he had been occupying himself with to try and ignore that _grin_. "You do have the results and papers from the response tests he had taken, correct?" Komui blinked a moment before nodding.

"Yes, they're in the files we have of him. Why?"

"Because," Levirrier responded. "We need to insure that he hadn't been _slowing down. _I want you to do some more tests with the technology here at main headquarters. It Shouldn't be a problem, considering it is basically a regular fitness exam, correct?"

Komui nodded. "He can do it tomorrow, once we organize the files."

000

Lavi felt he might have died the moment his 'little brother' said that.

**One question to all! Does anyone mind if I slip in music lines anywhere? (Like _CrushCrushCrush _by Paramore) Like what Lady Insensitive does in her fanfic, _Real Smile_, every now and then? Just opinions. They will be noted, even if they are not completely abided by. Merci, Danka, Gracias, Arigatou, and Thanks in any other languages you guys know!**


	3. Tripping

**Chapt 3's here! **

**Okay, I have a nursing clinic (did I just say that? Yes I did) so it may be slowing down a bit from here. It's just a week, but it'll take most of the day to do and will be taking up a lot of my mind, but in the evenings, it's all writing. So if this gets slower, that's why.**

**Oh, and guys, I actually had to look up a few words in the end there. I know, the Black Order probably doesn't have a testing room like that, but I was swimming at the time and yes, here comes the pun, my mind was water-logged. So... a room like that they have! Also, I know it's gonna be damn hard for a person to dodge a mortir, my family happens to know a lot about guns etc., but this is ALLEN WALKER here! The kid who caught a bullet the first time we met him! Hellooo?? **

**So... yeah, I have a bad habit of hating anything inaccurate, so forgive me for making you (possibly) learn things in here. It's the only reason I go to school, information for my stories (note: water and corn starch. It's AWESOME!!... and I am so using that with my 15's story ) **

**Yeah, before I asked if I could add music into this fic— that may not be happening for a bit, but it will come around eventually.**

**Man, this thing feels like it's going fast, so I'm really glad I got a brainstorm the other day, and so, this is probably going to be pretty long (hopefully, hehe...) but I'm running low on immediate ideas, so if anyone has a request (please, nothing completely absurd or involving romance) I'll see if I can work it in to get going a bit. No promises though, so if I don't add in your idea or another verson of it, please don't be offended. **

**X-over watchers, I have not abandoned you, I'm just too lazy to edit the next chapter right now**

**Okay... this is getting long, so let's cut to the chase: This chapter may be extremely cheesy, somewhat inaccurate on both scientific and canon elements, and have grammar/spelling errors. Please forgive and forget! **

**Disclaimer: If I owned D.Gray-Man, the Order wouldn't have been destroyed, Road would've gone into Allen's room and worded him.**

The room Allen was given was much less fancy than the ones Levirrier and Link had gotten. That suited him just fine. Frills and satins only seemed to irritate him, as though he had a long-bred grudge against things that were just a bit too high-society for him. However, he was quite glad to notice that there was indeed a private shower for him. He knew Levirrier was planning to stay for a month at the least, and communal bathing was his nightmare. Since the moment he awoke, he had hated exposing his left arm for obvious reasons.

He looked around briefly. It was a basic room, but maybe slightly larger than most. The floor was wooden, red oak, he supposed, by it's color. The walls had slightly darker shades of red contrasting with one bright shade, crossing over each other to for diamond patterns. They were popular these days, apparently. The fancier rooms back at central had also been recently renovated to have this wall pattern.

A scientist had accompanied him to the room, as I was a bit off the way off the other's. Several Crow Squad guards had come in scout ships to protect Levirrier if need be. Apparently, the last time Levirrier had come to main headquarters, there had been an attack. It had ultimately been stopped by two exorcists with evolved innocences, but not before almost the entire order was destroyed.

Even though Allen knew the reason behind it, he greatly disliked the Crow Squad. They disliked him back, shooking him looks through the eye holes in their masks when only he could see. Allen never returned their gazes, he simply held his head up and though he was silent, he acted cocky around them. They hated him utterly, and Allen got the impression if anything did go wrong during the time here, he wasn't about to get praise for solving it. He wasn't to be favored over them. He would get no freedom they thought he didn't deserve.

"Allen!" Johnny cried from the door, throwing it wide open. He ran over to Allen, knocking the younger boy off balance. Allen fell backwards and into a wall while Johnny seemed to take no notice, and simply hugged him. "Allen... you never came back..."

Allen twitched slightly. It was the second time in one day someone had something about him going away. It irked him. He had lived in central almost his whole life, he had suffered in an accident and lost all memory, he had never been to even the old Order Headquarters.

"Sorry, who..." Allen bit back the profanity he was halfway tempted to toss out. Usually he made a point of not swearing, nor being rude at all, but he was quite willing to make an exception when a complete stranger came up and hugged him.

Johnny looked up at him, eyes tearing up slowly. "You really don't remember, do you?"

Allen scowled.

000

He slammed the door loudly and fell back on the bed. "Dammit, what is it with the people around here?" He asked aloud, figuring now that now that he was alone he could swear as he liked. He slipped his arms out of his long jacket but did not get up, lying there quietly, running things over in his mind. A Bookman had _cried_ over him, when all he had known of the Bookman was his alias. A scientist he had never seen except for maybe at a glance when they had arrived had hugged him. He wasn't too sure this place was worthy of being the main defense against the Earl. Everyone here was utterly insane.

No, it was pointless searching around for answers. He had an archive in his room. Timcanpy fluttered down from his perch on the headboard, sensing that Allen wanted him. Allen rarely spoke lately, so Tim had learned to pick up the signs when he was wanted or needed. It was the connection of Noah that held them together, and the only reason Allen was permitted to keep the small golden ball. Tim held the music which Allen would play.

"Tim, what's going on here?" Tim flew in circles around his extended right arm. For once, he had absolutely no idea what Tim was saying. "You don't get it either?" Tim stopped in midair and drooped his wings sadly. "I see."

He took a long sigh and pulled out a small container of pills. They were small and oval shaped, with faint pink hues. The word, "Walker" was printed in small uppercase letters on the tops. They all looked like plastic; swallow-whole pills.

Allen looked disdainfully at the pills. He was strange. He had both Noah powers and a parasitic innocence, and he had to compensate for both. As being so, he ate lots of food for his innocence and suppressed his Noah powers to avoid an all out battle within his body. The pills supposedly suppressed the Fourteenth Noah from reviving and taking over his conciousness. But if it was take the pills or wind up with no mind and simply being a body for a Noah, he was willing to almost kill himself daily.

Grudgingly, he tossed the pill into his mouth and instantly clamped his hand over his mouth. The gag reflex disliked these pills, and he had to absolutely force them down. He shuddered and threw his head back, swallowing hard to get it down, pulling every trick he could think of from holding his nose to stroaking his throat until it finally went.

He slumped back against the bed, panting for lack of breath. He may have been a Noah-Exorcist hybrid whatever, but he was still classified as a human. It was only so long he could be active while holding his breath. In truth, he was simply exhausted because he didn't like this Order place. People everywhere and acting so strangely, it wore him out.

Opening one weary eye, he reached out and patted Tim, who bowed his wings in time. The golden ball carefully walked up to snuggle right into Allen's ribs cage. Allen smiled softly. If there was one thing he actually cared about, it would be Tim.

Tim was the one link to everything he had, even if neither of them could remember it.

000

"He really doesn't remember, then?" Lenalee asked desperately. Lavi sat beside her on the bed in Johnny's room. It was cluttered with gagets and books, but more organized than Lavi's. Kanda refused to let them into his room, and they would all have been skinned alive if it were discovered by Komui they were meeting in Lenalee's room. Allen's room hadn't been accessible for two years. It hurt to even pass it sometimes on the way to meals. Closest one to the dining hall on the left, small bloodstains on the hinges from when Komui used it for storage, and it creaked when it opened.

Johnny swallowed hard before nodding his head. "You should have seen how he looked at me..." He rested his head in his hands and sank back into the chair. "He... he just... didn't recognize me at all..." Lavi nodded.

"Same with me..." He said. Of all the things to walk off Levirrier's boat wearing his friend's skin, an annoyed, edgy, spiteful person who seemed to have forgotten everything he ever held dear was not it.

"What do yo think they did to him?" He asked, the melancholy shining through clear as his hammer in a wide empty space. Johnny and Lenalee shook their heads, not wanting to think about what they knew Central was capable and plenty willing to do to a person.

"Th... they were making things when I was there..." Lenalee said, her voice high and breaking every few words. "Thing to make a person... die... then just use them... as a puppet or something..." Johnny bit his lip.

"But Allen's not dead..." Johnny said determinedly. "He's not dead, he's just really out of it! That's it, that's all!"

The door opened with a loud shriek at that moment, making every occupant of the room jump. A new scientist stuck his head in the room.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry!" He cried when he saw the two exorcists in Johnny's room. It was common knowledge that Johnny was closer to the exorcists than almost everyone else in the Order, as almost everyone else feared them, even just a bit. More often than not, exorcists were avoided except at parties and such. Those times, exorcists seemed more close to human, while not fighting or training. All other times, the aura of superiority clung to most of them, and the newer recruits had somehow got it into their head they should back off.

Johnny however, just nodded his head back and forth, indicating it was fine. "Johnny, supervisor said he needed you to come to the test area, said to hurry..." Johnny nodded, putting on his serious work face. He put his hand on Lenalee's shoulder and said:

"I'm sure he'll be fine, no matter what's really happening," With that, he smiled in a way Allen taught him how to, and turned to go work. He left the door half opened and trotted beside the newbie scientist.

"Were you talking about Walker?" He asked. Johnny's face fell and he nodded. "So I take it he wasn't always like that..." Johnny bit his lip.

"Allen was nothing like that thing in his skin."

000

Allen stood at the southern part of a white, rectangular room; a glass divider behind him, where a group of scientists, Komui, Levirrier and Link all stayed. Johnny rushed into the door with the other scientist panting behing him, still not used to the Black Order's real size, it seemed.

"Komui, what's going on?" Johnny asked, making sure to be a few steps closer to the Supervisor and a few steps father away from the Investigators.

"We're planning to see if Allen's slowed down at all because of him... absence," Komui said, not completely hiding the grim tone in his voice as he said the last word. Johnny swallowed nervously and nodded. Komui nodded back and with a glance at Levirrier he spoke into a microphone attached to his headset.

"Walker, we are beginning, please dodge and destroy all obstacles," And with that, the timer began with a loud_ chreen._

All at once, things in the room began moving. Plates in the walls popped out and revealed small quad-mounted guns that looked as though they were designed for anti-aircraft purposes, not tests. Many did not reveal turrets, but large sliding blocks, moving in and out in a complicated pattern, and more did not move at all. There was one thing similar about all them, however, they made it nearly impossible to navigate at all.

Several of the scientists made small protesting noises as Allen jumped around the room to avoid being injured.

"This was the level he was at most often before," Komui explained. "It requires lots of movement and jumping— Allen's specialty." Some became hushed and returned to monitoring the screens. Most of them had joined after Allen had left, it seemed. There were a few startled noises as Allen back-flipped to avoid a particularly lucky moving slide. He landed smoothly on another before jumping again and being missed by a small mortir, which had been amazingly well aimed. It's shrapnel scattered across half the room.

Johnny leaned closer to the screen he and Komui were nearest too, which displayed the small-muscle movement in Allen's body. "Komui, something's wrong here..." This earned some confused looks from others, who were completely overwhelmed by Allen's ability to move.

Komui bent over to see the screen better. "Go back to that last jump," Johnny said to the scientist, a shaved-bald man who looked to be in his late thirties. "Slow it down three-fold." Johnny said. He nodded and complied. Johnny pointed to the spot where Allen landed, and Komui let out a thoughtful hum.

"He tripped at the last moment," Komui remarked. Johnny nodded.

"See? His foot should have stayed mostly stationary as he landed," It replayed again, "But it didn't." Allen's infrared form turned back in midair and descended like a trained acrobat. His feet came down first to act as shocks, lines up and knees bent. They touched down and then the left one buckled, so slightly it was almost impossible to notice. His knee dropped several degrees and feet shifted somewhat unnaturally for mere seconds before he was able to pull them back under control and finish the land correctly.

"I don't think he's ever tripped," Johnny said, "Not even slightly." Komui nodded and returned to watching Allen as he was, now moving swiftly along a particularly full area of turrets. He got behind one and swung his leg around, knocking the makeshift gun off it's mount. Several of the scientists sat open-mouthed at this display.

"Why doesn't he use Crowned Clown, instead?" Komui asked. Levirrier chuckled.

"Crowned Clown is often used as a last resort, as he becomes very tired after fighting with it for too long." He said haughtily. "His Innocence is extremely powerful, but as of this moment, he cannot use it," Levirrier continued, "Because at the same time, his Noah abilities are being compromised. If he uses one for too long, the other grows too powerful and upsets his capabilities." Johnny knew that was a bad thing, but for some reason, he quite liked the idea.

"And when things such as that happen, Walker becomes... _disruptive_," The last word was covered with so much lace it was like poisoned honey. Komui nodded and returned to watching.

_It looks strange..._ Johnny thought_ The way he' s landing seems normal, and it's close, but it's just a bit off, like he cant really get it anymore. _There was a strange horror to that. Like Allen had forgotten even his own style. _It's like his mond doesn't remember what to do, even though his body does._ That had to be it. _The confrontation of body and mind is skewing his balance, but just enough to make him trip._ But there was something way more important than that. _Part of him remembers, though._


	4. The Past Must Fly

**Lots of swearing in this one, so beware!! Also... yeah, please don't kill me for the crappiness in here '' this was sorta rushed and done late at night cuz I'm going to an extra class this week (why oh why couldn't I go to game design instead?? I'm learning about hand-washing, they're making video games!!) I'm hoping something I learn in the class will come into the story a bit, but so far, I doubt. **

**So... yeah, this is in like... a golden age in my mind, I'm working out a lot of details really fast for once... **

**The song at the end is "Fly" by Alana Brody (w00t, Alana!!) and I don't quite know if I got the lyrics right, cuz I lost the case a while ago (oops) so, that's just a rough guess. But Alana is awesome, cuz you can actually understand what she's saying, she plays the piano amazingly and, get this, SHE IS BRINGING PRIDE TO THE ALTOS!! YAY!!**

**Okay, sorry about that, but I like Alana like hell, so... shameless plug!! But... yeah, I was looking for a song to go with this, and "Fly" was the best one I had, so there it be. Ignore it if you think they disrupt the flow, thanks!**

**(and blah blah blah)**

**Haha.. NOW you know why he REALLY hates being called Beansprout!!**

**Oh dear, I've made Allen a killer...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "Fly" or D.Gray-man. If I did, Alana's songs would be the next DGM ending!!**

"Allen has slowed down slightly, but that's natural after an absence," Komui said to Levirrier, handing him the testing results. "It's no more than two percent of his speed that dropped and his balance is slightly impaired, but still much better than the average human." Levirrier nodded, looking over the papers and having a smug look on his face. "However, to compensate, his strength in both his arms and legs has increased dramatically." Komui continued, pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

Allen stood in the back of the room, listening somewhat lazily. He was very happy about his results but did not show anything other than his usual stoic face. He was glad on the average he had improved since before he lost his memory. It meant there was nothing worth going back to search for.

Several of the scientists were casting odd looks at the silent boy by the door, his face stony and cold. Nothing like what they had once heard about him. The door burst open. Allen stepped aside quickly and saw a flash of dark black hair.

"Brother, there's something wro—" Lenalee came to a sudden halt halfway across the room. She froze and her face slowly was drained of everything but horror.

"Lenalee..." Komui said slowly, "Sorry, please wait a moment... Reever?" Reever almost immediately ran up to Lenalee. He tugged on her hand gently and helped her away from the horror of a certain human.

He led her to another room, a good ways away from Levirrier. She seemed to have similar panic attacks every time he was nearby. The moment he released her hand, she slumped over onto the wall and slid down to her knees. Reever bent over to be at her level and patted the back of her head comfortingly.

"Lenalee, he's not here, it's safe now..." He whispered. "Wake up..." Lenalee shivered a bit before her eyes got some color back, coming out of the glazed over look she had adopted for the past few minutes.

"Why did he have to come back?" Lenalee asked, her voice no more than a whisper. "Something always goes wrong when he's here..." Her eyes slowly filled up with tears. Reever patted her comfortingly again. He didn't like it when any of the exorcists broke down like this. The exorcists were the guiding light, but no matter what, they were still human. Possibly the most fragile of them all, and he didn't want to see them break anymore then they already had. Lenalee was so close to breaking again, Reever thought that a single wrong movement or word and she would crash down again.

Lenalee looked up abruptly. A tear slid loose of her lid and rolled slowly down her cheek. "Reever, Komui must've showed you something. What happened to Allen?" Reever fell into absolute silence. His hand stopped moving and he simply stared at Lenalee. She looked so beaten; Levirrier had made a horrible impact on her life, not just once now, but twice. Two times she had broken because of Levirrier. Two God-damned horrors to flood her whenever he came nearby.

"Lenalee..." Reever gave her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. "You really don't want me to answer that. Now come on, he's left now. Let's go find your brother..." Lenalee nodded slowly. Reever doubted she knew what she was agreeing to, she still seemed so out of it. He sighed and helped her up.

000

"I hate this." Lenalee said, burring her head in her arms. "I hate knowing he's here and we should be able to do something." Lavi nodded.

"I hate seeing him _like_ this." Johnny sighed. "After Reever got you away from Levirrier today, Allen didn't even react. It was horrible..." Lavi gritted his teeth.

"This isn't right," Lavi said. "Why is it always Allen?" He asked. "First this crap about him being the Musician, and then, about him being a traitor, and now he's central's _dog_!" There was a loud bang as Lavi thrust his fist against the tabel in Johnny's room. It had really become their meeting place.

Johnny nodded. "He's just following them around, and doing anything they want him to without even batting an eyelash! It's sick!" He said. "There was a rumor the other day that a finder bad-mouth Levirrier and vanished the next day. And everyone said that Allen did it!" Lenalee and Lavi cried in outrage.

"He'd never do that, even if he was a brainwashed dummy!" Lavi shouted. "Allen hates even _scratching_ other people! No matter how much he and Yu fought, Yu never got hurt unless they were training together!"

Johnny nodded. "I know that," He said. "But, I cant help thinking..." Lenalee shook her head furiously.

"_Dont_ even say it, Johnny," She demanded in a hard voice that did not belong to her. Johnny looked away from her.

"I'm sorry Lenalee..." He walked to the other side of the room and opened the window wide, letting the pale moonlight fall into the room and cover his face, illuminating the tears that had been hiding behind his spiraling glasses. "But I cant help thinking this really isn't our Allen..."

The smack echoed throughout the whole order.

000

Allen slept horribly that night. He hated this place and everyone in it. Those people who overreacted around him and hissed badly mellowed whispers behind his back. So what if Levirrier actually _had _asked him to get rid of the finder? It wasn't as though even if he refused the finder would live. Contrary, he would have had it even worse, as the Crow Brigade was much less lenient when it came to offences against Levirrier. The were the definition of obsessive over their commander.

_It's funny how people cant let go_

_Of the past, that's a fact,_

_Gotta let it fly..._

Slumping down into the pillow, he noted the bed was actually much nicer than the one he had back at central, which was something more of a wooden cot on legs and a matress than anything else. He pulled the covers up high enough to cover his neck. He had a small sort of complex it seemed. At night, he hated to show his neck. A small, meaningless thing. Probably the result of stories he heard whispered in the halls of central about murderers clipping into a room at night and slitting people's throats. Tonight was no different, and he pulled the covers up high. Dark sweet sleep came quickly.

_It's funny how people cant let go_

_Of broken glass, though they know,_

_The pieces will never fit back right._

And that was when the night got bad.

His dreams had always been pointless as far as he was concerned, always showing him people he didn't know, nor did he wish to know. They were just being, being in places far away. People from China, Japan, England, the Soviet Union, France, Germany, Rome, Italy, the desserts, forest and rainforests, oceans and cities and other places he had never once laid eyes on. His most logical explanation of this was his Noah ability was showing him people from all over the world, of course, it didn't help the theory that it was the same people reappearing for each nationality. He had even learned some of their names through the dreams.

_And it's clear to me, that our history_

_Is just a freckle, a speck_

_In time._

Every night, he would watch their lives like they were attractions on a large screen, and then, when he awoke, he would do his best to forget them all, because they were irrelevant to him. He usually forgot after forcing the god-damned pill down. But there was one dream that irked him more than any of the others.

_It's clear to me, _

_The real mystery is _

"_Where will we be in a few years time?"_

It was about a man. In a clown suit. There was a little kid with him. Allen didn't like that kid. He disliked him even more because they shared the same name. He had brown hair pulled up into a hap-hazard ponytail pinned to the back of his head with an old broken clip. He had bruises all over him, but didn't seem to mind too much.

His clothes were tattered and covered with rips and tears that looked like they were mended by a not-so dexterous hand. Simple, popper's clothes. Baggy brown pants, three sizes too big, and a scratched up wool vest, too small for him. His shirt, once white but now colored with dirt and soot, was the only thing that seemed to fit his somewhat well, and still, he unbuttoned the sleeves to use his hands and tucked the long tail part far into his pants. The most defining thing on him was probably the scrap of cloth he wore tied around his neck. A pale, faded red, pulled together and hanging loosely around his neck. The only protection his neck had from the cold winter.

_'Cause life,_

_Is a-blinking, I am blinded._

_Reaching out for mine, so,_

_Hold on._

"It was a bad joke to make you walk all the way to the next town for that little money," The clown said as the brown-haired boy stumbled once again in the uneven road. The boy shrugged and continued walking along-side the clown. "And in this weather, too," He added.

"I'm pretty used to it," He said dismissively. "I get enough from odd-jobs to keep outta orph'nages, and I've never been sent to a pen'house, so I aint complanin'," he explained. His English was rough and obviously picked off the streets. He wasn't bad at talking, considering no one had taught him anything at all.

_Baby, don't let go,_

_So time moves slow,_

_And never let me fly._

The clown shrugged. A large ditch seemed to suddenly sink into the road, trapping the young Allen's foot. He fell over, face-down into the dirt road. "Damn!" He said as he pushed himself back up and rolled over into a sitting position, rubbing his leg tenderly, and trying hard not to put weight on it. The clown smiled and laughed merrily.

"You have bad luck, don't you?" The clown said. The young Allen glared at him heatedly.

"I was born with bloody no-luck!" He delared spitefully. The clown made a face.

"That's still no reason to swear," The clown said. The young Allen looked away angrily, tuning his attention back to his leg, which had apparently suffered a sprain.

_And maybe someday, _

_We'll rewind the tape and play it over again. _

_I'll always remember,_

_The times that we had when we were back_

_Then._

"Shit, how am I supposed to get back now?" He growled to himself, falling back into his own world slightly, before he had met the clown. A large shadow moved over him as the clown bent over and poked his leg. He yelped.

_But I've got to let you fly._

"Oh, that looks rather nasty..." The clown commented. The young Allen blinked back a tear in his left eye. He had recently been bruised rather badly on that leg and now injured yet again, it was difficult to have any weight on it at all. The clown looked over at him again and smiled. "How about this," He said, "You stop swearing and I'll get you back and take care of you 'till you're better?"

_It's funny how the people who make the difference_

_In your life, _

_You'll never see,_

_More than twice. _

Allen gave him an annoyed look. "You're blackmail a helpless orphan who's going to the treadmills if he don't get money damn soon?" He asked heatedly. Mana smiled.

"Basically yes, now do stop swearing and you'll be better off on both counts." Mana said. Allen scowled.

"Whadaya mean?" he asked.

"If you're more polite, people may listen to you more." Mana said. "Your accent is something I doubt you'll get rid of, but if you cut out the swears, you'll still be better than before, right?" Allen snorted.

"Fine" He said. "Now would you please help me out?" He asked. Mana smiled brightly.

"Sure, Allen!"

_It's funny how those people cut you off_

_And take a slice though they know your_

_Pieces will never fit back right._

Mana bent over and picked Allen up, helping the small boy climb onto his back and sliding his arms under his legs for support. He trudged along the weary path with his new weight held tightly on his back. After a while, Allen relaxed his head into Mana's neck.

"...thanks, Mana," He mumbled. Mana laughed.

"No problem, beansprout."

"Dont call me that," Allen said annoyedly.

"Why not?" Mana asked. "Dont I get a special treat?" He asked merrily. Just like he sounded.

_And it's clear to me _

_That our history is just a freckle,_

_A speck, in time._

"...Fine, but only you, Mana," Allen stated firmly. Mana laughed and raised one hand to pat Allen's head.

Allen got out of bed and tromped across the room. The threw open the window and let the icy night air sting his face. It felt pleasant as his room was suddenly far too warm. It reawakened his senses and brought him back to the real world. Brushing white hair out of his eyes, he scowled at the darkness.

_And it's clear to me_

_The real mystery is _

"_Where will we be in a few years time?"_

"What a load of bull shit."

**Harsh much, Allen?**

**Yeah, I;m putting questions for you all down here, so you'll remember to answer them...**

**So... there was a request for a prelude fic that told EXACTLY what happened at central HQ, and when Allen snapped. Somehow, I took the idea to heart and really want to make this other fic. Does anyone else want this fic uploaded, even though there will be about a bazillion OCs, abuse scenes, and more things that arent suitable for the sheltered mind (but don't worry, I'm not gonna write het!! It's not _THAT_ sort of unsuitable!!) So... opinions?**


	5. When He Dies

**How did 3 and 1-3 pages take me so long? I'm bad at social scenes. **

**Okay, um... yeah, this one is pretty Lavi-centric, but oh well... I hope Kanda isn't too OOC in this... thanks to Evil Snake Overlord for that one line about hitting Allen... it's not a direct quote, but it's the basic gist. **

**And, yeah, I've set it up so the story is going to go past Allen regaining/not regaining his memory. Why? I've thrown the Fourteenth in. **

**Also, the vote was... 9 to 0 in favor of the prelude fic (yes, I counted) but three people said I should probably wait until afterwards to make a preview, 1) so I had reference to go back on, 2) because it would take longer to type everything out if I did and... I think there was a third, but I'm doing this by memory, and I'm not perfect. Anyway, the overwhelming vote was to make a prelude, and make it now, so I'm uploading the first chapter at the same time as this one. **

**WARNING: It will be majorly angst filled, have detailed torture, and contain lots of bad thinngs happening to Allen, and lots and lots of OCs... read at own risk. (also, thanks to wilkandrakar for the list! Brilliant ideas!! 8D I wilt have fun again) **

**So, back to story! This may be a filler, but it's a filler with a purpose. The next chapter may take a bit, because I have no idea where to go from here... ideas are appreciated!!**

**Disclaimer: if I owned DGM, I wouldn't take so many breaks and torment my beloved readers! And if I did, I would at least apologize like heck!! T.T**

_He thrashed against their iron grips as they dragged him away; his mouth locked and arms bound, he still somehow found it in himself to fight back. Tears filled in his eyes alongside absolute horror and denial. He was innocent, and he knew that, and that one fact—that he had never meant for any of this—kept him sane through these past few minutes. His master loomed over him. He stopped struggling and fighting, and his captors stopped pulling him to try and make him move. _

"_I'm so sorry, kid," He said, bending over. "I'm sorry it had to be you." He hugged Allen softly before standing back up and walking away silently. Allen whimpered and cried, begging his master without words to turn around and save him, tell him it was another of his sick, twisted jokes. Tell him he wasn't really going to be murdered like this, because that was what the guards were promising him: death. They swore he would never see light again, never again be free. Allen couldn't take it. _

_He lunged forward repeatedly, trying to escape. Tears still streaked down his cheeks as they caught him and held him even tighter between each other. One worked an arm around his chest and held him close while another opened a bottle labeled 'chloroform'. The Crow splashed twice the necessary amount on a bit of cloth and smothered Allen's mouth and nose with it. _

_Allen stopped struggling almost instantly and he visibly slackened. Somehow, through the spell, Allen moaned before slumping over entirely. They held the now seemingly dead body loosely and took him away, his feet dragging the floor and head angled badly. _

_Lavi had to cover his mouth to prevent from crying out in horror as Allen Walker vanished forever. _

Lavi fell out of bed. He was breathing heavily and trembling. He soon realized he was drenched with sweat. He looked at the window across the room, almost completely covered up by old newspapers and books. It was dark, still nighttime. The moon wasn't very far out of the center of the sky, it was probably around one AM. He sighed and looked up at the bunk above his. The Panda was still sleeping soundly.

Lavi let out a deep breath and got shakily to his feet. Everything seemed so cold suddenly. The icy numbness stayed with him as he pulled on his black coat and opened the door, slipping out quietly. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

The halls of the Black Order were deserted this late at night. There was a strangely horrible silence that seemed to fill the void space. Hallways stained with tears.

He wandered around the Order aimlessly, letting his feet take him where they wanted. His mind was too busy trying to forget the images, perfectly preserved in his memory, of the last time Allen was seen at the Order as an actual, authentic person. The horror on his face was etched into Lavi's mind. The face that knew when hell was coming at him, when the reaper was staring him down, but Allen had faced death so many times before. He had died twice, Lavi had always just figured that Allen could make deals with Death itself, and always come out with the better deal.

Lavi bit his tongue and wished Allen could have made deals with Life like that. Then maybe this mess could have been avoided completely.

"What are you doing out here, rabbit?" Lavi snapped out of his thoughts.

"Kanda," His best friend raised an eyebrow.

"Just because you said that, I'm going to assume something is really, really wrong." Kanda stated. He turned to lead away. "...Lenalee's in the training room." He said. Lavi blinked and nodded. He followed his friend into the shadows.

000

"Lavi?" Lenalee asked, looking up from her spot on the raised side of the training area. Her face was misted and hazed by the steam coming off a cup of hot chocolate she held tightly between her trembling hands. Kanda sighed deeply.

"Why am I everyone's frickin' shrink, suddenly?" He asked. Lavi and Lenalee laughed weakly.

"You're just so insightful, Yu," Lavi said. Kanda twitched and muttered the usual threat for using his first name.

It was very cold tonight in the training room. Very cold and clammy, despite it being late summer. Lavi shivered and wiped a bead of out-of-place sweat off his forehead as he sat down beside Lenalee on the smooth, cool stone.

"Lavi?" She whispered. "What's wrong? You look terrible," She observed, her face still being misted by the steam of her coca. Lavi shook his head stiffly.

"It's nothing," He mumbled, "Just a bad dream," Lenalee looked at him, concern etched delicately on her face. She looked back down to her hands.

"I had a dream too," She whispered loud enough to just barely be audiabile. "You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine." Lavi looked over at her for a moment. She looked just as sleep-deprived as him. There were slight bags under her eyes he hadn't noticed in the day, and she was hunching over ever so slightly. She was suffering just as much as he was by this.

"Rabbit," Kanda barked, breaking the spell of silence. "What happened?" Lavi sat there, dumbfounded and brain still numb from sleep and the strange cold. Kanda groaned and covered half his face with one hand. "The night they took the god-forsaken Beansprout, stupid Rabbit."

Lavi blinked. This wasn't his topic at the moment. Lenalee looked at him pleadingly.

"Lavi, please," She whispered, her voice was cracking. "No one ever told us anything," _plip, plip, _"We need to know... what happened..."

Lavi looked away. "I am going to be expelled from the Bookman lore for this..." He said. Then shrugged, even though they couldn't see his face. "Oh well, fuck being a Bookman." He slammed his fist against the hard stone enough to make it bleed. He whipped his head around so fast, there was actually a very soft crack when his joints knocked together.

"Allen is the fourteenth Noah," He said. "He didn't know about it; his forster father, Mana, was the older brother of the fourteenth and when the fourteenth died, Mana lost his mind. Right before the fourteenth died, he implanted his powers in someone," Lavi took a short, deep breath, "Allen was unlucky and happened to be nearby at the time. He became implanted with the fourteenth's powers, and sometime later, Mana found Allen and raised him." He rung his hand through his hair, determinedly trying to calm himself, taking another breath.

"Right after learning this, the Crow Unit drugged Allen and took him away by force." he dropped his hand and let the hair fall over his face and eyes. "He really did try to get away..." Lavi whispered. "He may be the Fourteenth right now, just answering to Allen's name, or Allen could really have lost his memory because of something Levirrier did to him..." Lenalee shook her head in disbelief.

"And that's why you hit Johnny when he said he didn't think it was our Allen," She said softly. "You didn't want to imagine it." Lavi nodded.

"I...I don't like being a bystander." Lavi choked. "I should have stopped them from taking him away..." Kanda hit him upside the head. Lavi was knocked off the stone and onto the training room floor, giving a small yelp. "Dammit, Yu, that hurt!" He shouted up at his friend. Kanda che'd.

"If you're so pissed off about it, why don't you find out yourself if he's changed or not!" Kanda barked. "And if he really has just forgotten, hit him until he remembers!" Lavi and Lenalee stared, three eyes wide and disbelieving at him. Lavi had seen Kanda like this once before, when he was lecturing Komui about feeling guilty over Lenalee when the Level Four had attacked. Small bursts of words that made everything clear.

"And if he is the Fourteenth now, go out and kick as many Akuma asses as you can in his memory, then send flowers to his grave and have another reason to fight!"

Lavi closed his jaw-dropping mouth. He carved a very, very small smile on his face, almost the exact same smile Allen used to wear when he was hiding something bad. "There's a problem there too, Yu..." Lenalee shook her head slowly. She did not want to hear this, she did not want to hear this, she did not want to... she had to know. "If Allen isn't the Fourteenth yet, then he will kill one of us sometime in the future..."

_Shit fuck_

"When he dies."

000

Allen woke up very suddenly. Drenched in sweat and shivering. His eye burned horribly, but he ignored it, whizzing around insanely in it's socket. The cries of the dead calling out to him, asking for salvation. They scraped his mind's inside and consumed him slowly. A manic grin spread across his face.

"One freedom... they are it..."

No memories came to surface, no faces glowed in his mind, it was just the one thing. Ni matter what, the moment he had destroyed his first Akuma, he had been obsessive when it came to their extermination. It may have been a trait from his past life, which had been erased, but whatever it was, Akuma hunting was freedom. The simple rush of adrenaline he got like this in the middle of the night was proof enough.

However, within mintutes, the rush had died down and he was left with the burning and screams. His left arm twitched compulsively. He bit the blackened hand and lay back down, his sharp teeth digging into the irritated appendage. Not nearly enough to break skin, but the sharp pain of his canines and incisors drowned out the blinding anger of his left eye.

He sunk into his pillow and relaxed his muscles and the left eye slowly faded. He was hoping to get dome sleep tonight.


	6. Would You Like A Job?

**I'm trying to get more orgonized, so hopefully, my updates are going to get a bit more frequent and normal... -doubt- it's worth a shot though**

**Okay, in the last chapter, Lenalee said that she had a dream, and that's what this is opening up to: Lenalee's dream. Also... the whole "Espidan" thing will be explained in _Before It Was Lost._ **

**Also, I figured that not everyone has found _Before It Was Lost _(it's the pre-fic I promised), that's cuz it's already in the M rating. If you havent found it yet, go look through my stories, and it'll be there... yes, that's just a cleaver ploy to get people to see more of my work while looking, but oh well. (note: 2nd chapter in progress)**

**And... yes, I have recently been invaded by plot bunnies, one of which is an AlLena, but also an Allen-Lavi friendship... so... ... ... ... ... ... yeah, look out for that if I lost control of the bunnies (eek!! They're mating!!...oh, oh, no, Evil Takeover Plot, you get away from Cheesy Romance Novel this instant!!)**

**T or F**

"**When shocked, the human body will often rise up suddenly off the ground"**

**answer: FALSE! And so, I admit to having inaccurate information in here. But it's meant to improve dramatics. Sorry...**

**Okay, this is taking too much space, so... DISCLAIMER: okay... WHY DO I HAVE TO DO THIS EVERY TIME?? (yeah... I ran out of 'creative' ideas for the disclaimer this time. So shoot me... no, dont! I have fics to finish!! D8 )**

**Yeah, in my opinion, this is where the plot starts going. Hope you all enjoy!! **

_A single body lay suspended above the vat of blood, held in place by a web of wires weaving through his body. They carried small electrical charges, she knew, and they were meant for torturing one into submission. _

_There was a coarse shout as the body visibly jarred with a influx of energy. His head fell forward again, and he hung there, gagging on blood that welled up through his mouth by the jar in his frame. Once pure white hair was now stained red, and his eyes were void. Pure gray. All life, slowly being pulled away, and the moment he was about to finally go, he would be spared by Espidan. _

_Levirrier approached the limp mass on the floor, bleeding from many places along his frame._

"Repented yet, Walker?" The same question, every time. The light returned to his eyes, just barely. 

"_I... have n...uthing to re... pent... bastard." And then it would be too much. _

And that was when Lenalee would wake up. Maybe these dreams were coming because she had been submitted to the torture of Levirrier at a very young age, or maybe because she had never been nearly as self-reliant as Allen, because she chose to fight _with_ others, as well as _for_ them. Maybe it was just because, but Lenalee was getting these dreams, as well as the ones about the destruction of the world, now.

She buried her face in her pillow and wished they would stop.

000

"More have gone missing?" Levirrier asked interestedly. Komui nodded darkly.

"They are the third group of finders that have vanished in that relative area," He informed. "We have yet to recover any bodies, because whoever we send never seems to return. There's a possibility of either Noah, Akuma, or both." Levirrier nodded again, his right hand supporting his head, a stereotypical thinking position.

"We would rather not send in exorcists until there is at least a fifty-percent chance of their survival rate, meaning, we would truly like to know what we are up against before we send them in." Komui took a breath. "For all we know, it could be the Earl there, making an ambush for us the moment we send too many exorcists away from Headquarters." Levirrier hummed in thought.

"How many exorcists do you have a policy of keeping near headquarters at all times, Komui Lee?" He asked. Komui looked at him questioningly before replying, feeling something dark would form in his superiors mind should he give a bad answer, though he didn't exactly know what answer would be right.

"Three at the least," He said. "After the incident with the level four two years ago, we've made sure there are enough exorcists to at least put up a decent fight against one..." He glanced over at Allen, who was hidden in the back corner.

Levirrier nodded approvingly. "A good theory, Komui Lee, though, how many exorcists are libel to be deployed at once with this in action?"

"Our numbers have risen again, so not counting the four generals, six," Komui said, "So there are often three missions at once." Levirrier nodded again, before standing up and clearing his throat.

"Well then, Komui Lee," He began, "As it appears you truly don't have any exorcists at the moment to investigate this troublesome issue, I have a proposition," Komui got the feeling he wasn't to like this at all, surprisingly though, Levirrier's next word were not to him.

"Walker..." Allen's head shot up and out of shadow. He bore the distinct aura of a trained soldier awaiting orders. All those in the science room seemed to shrink down slightly. Johnny and Rob both looked away. "Would you like a job?" To some's amazement, the Noah-boy smiled.

"Of course, sir."

000

"Are you sure about this, Inspector Levirrier?" Link asked as he trotted aside his superior down the hall. "Walker may encounter a Noah, or possibly the Earl himself. What if this triggers a negative reaction?" Levirrier scowled at Link's lack of faith.

"We took the same risks when we exposed him to the Akuma," Levirrier scoffed. "It will be no different from then," Link nodded, but made a small sound of protest, which Levirrier quickly doused.

"And _should _something occur to reawaken memories, then we will stop it before it becomes a catastrophic loss for the Order." He said sharply. "Allen Walker will be either our victory or our ruin, and as long as his memory is supressed, he will be our victory."

_Because no matter the cost, we must win this war! _

The unspoken words echoed around the empty hall, as though it were another building, in another circumstance, two long years ago.

000

Allen sat quietly on his bed in his given room. Hands folded between his legs, hunched over slightly. His hair was in his face, but he pointedly ignored that. Looking up slowly, he cast his eyes around the room for Timcanpy. The small golden ball, sensing Allen's searching eyes, glided down with ease off the top of a large bookshelf, filled to the brim with tomes and novels and grimms that Allen had not, and probably never would read. He did recognize some of the titles, particularly the Charles Dickens one. About the cruel old man who loved money. A nurse at the infirmary in Central had told him about it once during one of his not-so short stays.

It had taken him less than five or so minutes to pack for the mission, as he, with any luck, would only be gone a day or so. He had little to pack except for a change or two of clothes. He would be sent out the next day, as the sun was already setting and the last train had already left the station for hours to come.

He hummed a small tune to himself, not really paying it any attention other than a steady rhythm. He didn't really notice how he was subconsciously adding in words to fit it. If anything, it would be called a talent. He just hummed and sang soft little words to go with it, while stroaking Timcanpy's wings softly. He did notice Tim was bobbing along with his tune. The sun could be seen setting through the decent-sized window across from his bed. It was coming down over the waters in a blaze of vermileon, golden and blue glory. The clouds and waves reflected it's rays as the ship was a shadow completing the picture, it's ropes and ties and sails all going in sync as the wind blew though he couldn't feel it and the sky slowly darkened as the giant ball sunk into the water as a choir of crickets and cicadas sang their sharpened melody...

A very small crack appeared in the window glass. Allen stopped humming immediately and covered his mouth with his left hand. _Ah, shit..._

With the right, he dug around frantically in his back for the small container of pills. _It_ rose slowly on the teetering edge of his conciousness, threatening at any moment to dive in and drag memories along with it. To destroy 'Allen' for whatever he was. Certainly not anything more than a sacrifice.

He somehow popped the lid open with his fumbling hands and slipped out one pill. He threw his head back and proceeded the torment of forcing it down. It finally went after gaging several times and repeatedly stroaking his throat, which seemed to help him the most. Still, he was left half-dead lying on the soft white bed sheets.

Tim came up to him and cuddled in his white hair, making a nest of it. He tried to steady his breathing, slowly taking breaths one after another. There was a brief series of knocks on his door.

"A-allen?" Allen groaned quietly and sat up on the bed, apologizing to Tim briefly for upsetting his nest. His legs ached as he made his way to the door, and he had the suspicion that they would be little better the next day. The lack of movement had taken tolls on him.

He recognized the scientist at the door somewhat. The one who had burst into his room on the first night. He had frizzy sand-colored hair tied back into pigtails and huge swirling glasses, as was the fashion of the time.

"Allen?" He began. Allen waited patiently for him to continue, realizing that he might not look his best at the moment after nearly choking himself. "I-I heard about the mission, so..." He scratched his cheek nervously. Was Allen that awkward to be around? Yes, he was from central, but that could only detriment one's previous reputation but so much...

"Good luck, Allen." The scientist said, loosing the stutter quite suddenly. Allen averted his eyes and scratched behind his head before turning around.

"Thanks, _Johnny_," He said casually before closing the door. Johnny stared at the place Allen had vanished moments before when tears slowly built up.

"You said my name..."

_We were right._


	7. Everything Is Messed Up

**This is 3 and a half pages, people!!... and yeah, I'm sleepy, even though it's only 9:05... and so, that kinda came off with me in the end. Sorry for the wait, but this was hard to write... if it's rushed, sorry, it was the best I could do with it... cuz I apparently got a minor block from this thing...**

**Yeah, this thing may soon take a turn no one is expecting... I promise, it'll go places!!**

**WARNING: THIS THING HAS ALLENxROAD IN IT (and slight Allen-molest, but that's expected from me) SO BACK OFF, HATERS!! (awww it's all fluffy in the end 3 teehee. Yeah, I somehow managed slightly fluffy, I dunno how, though!) **

**Anyway... yeah, I tried not to make it _imply _anything at the end, but... DANGIT, I WANT IT TO IMPLY SOMETHING TT.TT yeah,yeah, the RodAl consumes my soul... I love it beyond words... so...**

**ENJOY, MY FELLOW RodAl LOVERS 8D**

**disclaimer: ...okay, really, I'm not a redhead and I'm not a suprano, there is NO WAY I own, CrushCrushCrush (Paramore) and D.Gray-Man would have WAAAY longer chapters if I had my way. D'you think I own either of them??**

Allen wasn't quite sure how this had come about, but the little girl was certainly a devil. A demon, needing to be killed. Destroyed. _Crushed_ by his arm's talons and his cowl's cloth.

"Come on, Allen, you can do better!" She shouted and jeered as he dodged several candles sent his way. Nine, all colored with strange patterns and unwinding themselves to give sharp, deadly points.

The stupid kid just wouldn't shut up! Spewing drabble and mocking calls. She shrieked and played with him, half the time actually fighting, other times, making jokes about him. Just laughing. She had seemed innocent enough as she had walked up to him and smiled. She had looked human.

She was Noah.

"_Allen?" She whispered. He turned around, his hood covering his face and hair. She smiled in glee. "Allen, it's been ages!" She revealed her Noah mark. Within moments, people began to panic and people screamed. Confusion and chaos rocketing about, and making it difficult for Allen to get a clear shot at her. A single human death would infuriate Levirrier. That would simply not happen._

No more humans lay around, none were killed, either. Allen was feeling cocky, he had managed to hold off a Noah long enough to have a full station of panicking people evacuate, without one of them dying. He jumped back onto a half-collapsed building and avoided yet another barrage. He paused momentarily when he noticed the small Noah-girl pouting.

"What's wrong, Allen?" She asked in mock-sadness, at least he assumed it was mock. It was a Noah, they were humans who had lost their souls to the devil, and they had no emotions but those given and reserved by the devil to them. "You havent said a word this whole while," He raised an eyebrow.

"Dont make it seem like you know me, Ma'am," He said, purposely lacing his voice with sarcasm. Too many people had said things along those lines lately and it was getting to him. But he did not doubt Levirrier. He grinned widely when her jaw dropped.

"You.. what?" She shrieked at him. "Allen, you don't remember me?" He stuck out his tongue mockingly and jumped up again to aim a slash from his claw at her, which would have hit directly if not for a door appearing beneath her feet and swallowing her up instaintly. She reappeared several feet away from him, behind his back. He groaned, knowing very well he wouldn't be able to keep up his invokation much longer before his Noah-Innocence balance was upset within his biochemical makeup. He didn't know the details, but it would be bad. He had experienced a mis-balance once, and the results were certainly not good.

"You don't remember..." Was that Noah girl _crying_? "...you were my first kiss..." Allen nearly fell from his perch on the rubble.

"What—" And then he saw black.

He groaned as he awoke, a large bump already forming on the back of his head. The vision center, if he remembered correctly, which would explain why he was seeing everything at slanted angles and doubles masked with fuzz. He tried to move. His arm was frozen in place. Nailed to a wall.

"Allen?" The same voice of the Noah girl called. "Allen!" She cheered when she saw he was awake. Within moments, he felt warm arms around him and cuddling him tightly. He tensed up as she kissed him lightly on the cheek. His arm gave a violent twitch, as though it wanted to skewer her on the spot. Through the haze, he could make out her frowning. "You really don't remember me?" She asked, pulling up and away from him slightly.

He growled and tried to kick her, which she smoothly dodged. She frowned harder at that. Allen was sure his vision was going down rapidly, because Noahs couldn't cry. It was a fact, they simply did not cry. Noahs were less than human, and so they had no emotions but that which was assigned to them. That was why they, and Allen himself, never cried. "You said you would never forget me, Allen," She hissed.

Allen gagged on whatever happened to be in his throat at that moment. He had made no such promise to anyone!

"What did they say to make you hate us, Allen?" She asked, much, much too close for comfort. "How did they make you forget?" She kissed his again as he tried to speak. He squeaked in suprise and somehow managed to push her off. "Dont you remember?" She asked. "You were my _first kiss_."

Whatever was in his throat was definitely very good for gagging on.

She leaned in even closer. Allen somehow felt panic. _Shit, this will end really badly..._

"Are you even Allen Walker?" Allen scowled.

"Yes, I'm bloody Allen Walker!" He shouted. Road still frowned.

"Then tell me..." She said softly and slowly, as though she were speaking to a very young child. "What is your favorite saying and who taught you it?" She asked.

Allen stared at her. "Wha— I don't have one!" She frowned and smacked him.

"What is it you want, more than anything else?" She demanded. Allen was in an open-mouthed silence, his cheek was slowly swelling red. "Who is the person you love more than anyone else?" Still silence. Allen couldn't think of a person who was important to him. There was a small nagging he should remember, but there was absolutely nothing yielded. Blank.

She growled quietly and leaned over him again. "Allen, what are the Noahs to you?" She asked. Convulsive anger took over Allen's face.

"DEMONS!" He shouted, his free arm lashed at her. Knocking her off him. "Pale imitations of human life! They deserve nothing but death at the end and if I have to die to kill them, I'll die in the name of the Vetican!" Road frowned.

"Really?" She asked in a dull monotone that made it clear she didn't believe a word she was hearing. "I'm going to ask you something else, then." She said. Allen glared at her, as hard and long as he could until his eyes stung and were close to tears. _But I can never cry._ "When was the last time they let you do anything you wanted for yourself?" Allen blinked. What sort of question was that?

_They taped over your mouth  
Scribbled out the truth with their lies  
You little spies_

"When was the last time you were allowed to speak for yourself?" She asked. He ground his teeth against each other. A soldier shouldn't have to speak. A soldier should just have to follow, Allen had been told that and thus, he was to believe it with everything he had, little as it may be. "And when was the last time you could have an opinion?" She asked, question after question, giving him seconds to search around for a scathing reply. "Or got a reward you rightfully deserved?" She just would not shut up! "Or been able to show emotion?"

"_Dammit, be quiet!_" He was silence immediately by the Noah kissing his again. He tried to push her away with one arm but she just stayed, pinning him closer to the wall. When she finally pulled away, he slumped over panting, having a feeling much like that after swallowing one of his pills, though now it seemed like he were on the verge of retching.

_They taped over your mouth  
Scribbled out the truth with their lies  
You little spies_

"I didn't think that would work so well..." She said, wiping her mouth. "I'm certainly not complaining, though," She smiled a sweet smile that was filled with innocence and hope. Soft and kind, unlike what she had worn before. Cupping his face with her smaller hands, she made him look up at her. At that smile. Why did something about this feel familiar? _"Isn't this the feeling when humans embrace each other, Allen?" _"Isn't this the same look I gave you when we first met, Allen?" She asked, still smiling that smile. "Isn't this the same way I said your name, Allen?" She gave a small pout. "You cant say you don't remember _us_, Allen..."

Allen was silent for almost a minute. "Road?" She broke out into a wide grin.

_  
__Crush  
Crush  
Crush  
Crush, crush  
(Two, three, four!)  
_

"Road..." He whispered again. Oh Mother Virgin Mary, was he crying? "Road, what am I?" He asked. Road smiled sympathetically and hugged him tightly.

"You're a Noah, Allen," She said, "You know that already," A lump caught in his throat. He swallowed it and nodded. He knew that. "The Order caught you somehow and made you forget... Allen, I havent seen you in two years..." She gave him another soft kiss of the cheek. "You were so strong... I don't know how they did it, but it must have been horrible..." She stroked his hair comfortingly. Like an older sister, or a lover, or something.

_  
Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone  
Just the one two of us who's counting on_

"Is my real name Allen Walker?" He asked. Road nodded.

"Why do you ask, Allen?"

"I just want to make sure... who I am..." He said. "Something feels bad..." He said. Thin tear tracks were being traced out on his cheeks and his eyes were turning slightly red. "Why do I have innocence?" He asked. "Everything's messed up..." Road hugged him tighter.

"Your innocence took command over your Noah when you forgot." She said, slowly untying his arm while still sitting beside him. "I don't know how it happened, but you were born with both," His left arm fell limply at his side. "You were different, so the Order wanted to use you..." She nuzzled into his side, like she wanted to sleep.

_  
That never happens,  
I guess I'm dreaming again._

"Road?" She looked up. "Are we in your dimension?" Road nodded happily.

"So you're safe here, Allen," She said. "No one will come across your body or overhear us talking or anything." She smiled again. Allen smiled lightly, then his head fell over and he was sleeping.

_  
Let's be more than this._


	8. The Twelfth Night

**The chapter title is a fickin' big hint to next time (note: it has nothing to do with the Shakespearian play. Check the dictionary if you're confused now.) **

**See the bottom on this for bad news.**

**Okay... apparently, my last chapter made everyone think that Road was trying to do something nice for Allen.. I have one thing to say...**

**HSNABWNAAB-- WHERE'D YOU ALL GET THAT IDEA?! (yes, HSNABWNAAB really does mean something...)**

**Rude awakening time. (frick yeah. Gunna be sum fun)**

**Disclaimer: ... ... ... I ran out of creative things to say, so I'm going with the last resort:**

**IF I OWNED D.GRAY-MAN, ALLEN WOULDN'T RIP HIS SHIRT AS MUCH AS HIS PANTS, AND WOULD BE BEING TORTURED LEFT AND RIGHT, AND THE EARL WOULD BE DAMN PERVERTED TOWARDS HIM!! X00 (yes, you all finally get to see the real me. The sadist and pervert... how many of your brains broke from that last sentence, I wonder? :3 I kid! I kid XD)**

There were few in the halls as he returned to the Black Order's new gates. Only the usual guards who stared at his accusingly as he walked the entry-way. It seemed strangely much larger and more imposing the second time on entry, perhas because of the lack of a group of people turning out to welcome in Levirrier.

Levirrier.

_That guy._ Allen mentally smacked himself. '_Act like you did before, stupid,_'. He walked down the slowly becoming more crowded and busy halls with a blank and scorning look on his face. People, as always, moved a few inches away as he passed, so as not to seem disrespectful or scared, but the sinister aura so similar to Levirrier's he radiated was too much for them, so they moved away as little as they could.

And so he wasn't very much expecting the hand on his shoulder as he got closer to the Supervisor's office. He stiffened and whipped his head around, paranoia telling him to be on guard.

Paranoia was embarrassed at it's misinterprtation as Allen saw two frizzy pigtails and large spiral glasses. Johnny grinned up at him. "Misssion go well?" He asked. Allen shrugged silently and continued walking. Johnny made a slightly confused noise and made to follow when several hands shot out and pulled him back.

"Johnny, what do you think you were doing?" They hissed. Allen was already too far away to hear, but still. They were all newer recrutes and hadn't been around before Allen had been taken away. He, greatly against his character, frowned deeply and shrugged off their hands.

They gave him confused looks and some shook their heads in confusion. Johnny had always been the more soft-spoken one among them. He hadn't often been one to speak out unless the exorcists were involved in some way. He was always closer to them than almost anyone else. Except Komui and Reever of course.

"Johnny what the heck were you doing?" They asked confusedly. "It's _Allen Walker_," They hissed again. "Why would you want to go near him?"

Johnny flinched. It just hurt to hear words like that. "Listen," He said in a hushed voice, "I know Allen, and I've known him for a while. Levirrier changed him and the person you see right now _isn't _Allen Walker."

The new scientists exchanged looks. "Levirrier made him forget," He mumbled. "That's all it can be... he would act like this if he remembered everything..." The scientists groaned and shook their heads again.

"If he's forgotten, why don't you just leave him be? Maybe he wont _want _to remember." Johnny hung his head. "Anyway, _why _would he remember?"

"He did the other day," and there was silence.

"Nothing much," Johnny continued, "But he remembered my name," and there was silence.

000

Allen scratched down a massion report quickly, yet with decent detail, in about five to ten minutes time when he returned to his room. Just a very brief two-pager telling what happened in the mission and a general sum-up of the cause or his speculation on the cause. Simple, clean cut, and positively annoying.

When done, he fell back on his bed, as he had done so many times before. His head was still full of everything. No, he hadn't remembered. Only scattered fragments of memories. About Road.

Kisses, sweet words, hugs, and vague images of what he looked like long ago were all he had.

Not enough to even clutch in his fist. "What happened, Tim?" He asked. "What happened when we forgot?" Tim flew in circles around his head. Speaking in his own language. Allen frowned and sighed again, closing his eyes and running through things in his head.

"Tim?" He said after some time, though he was not very sure how long. He sat up. Timcanpy perched on his knee, awaiting Allen's instructions. "Tim... can you show me that one recording? Please?" One record of his life before... one record besides his own shattered memory. A man who's voice he didn't know and no video with it. But it held Tim and his names. That's what made it important.

Tim bobbed up and split it's head, showing a top and bottom row of centimeter long teeth.

"_Hey Allen, I never asked you before, but what do you think of Timcanpy? I'd always meant to give him to you..."_

He was... important... the person speaking was someone important, even if Allen didn't know who he was. He was important to Allen somehow, even though he reflexively got a feeling of dread when he heard the voice.

He groaned and flopped back down. He had excluded his little 'encounter' with his kin and claimed he had only fought Road until she had been 'forced to retreat'. He snorted at the thought. Road was _strong_. If it weren't for his past (which he was suddenly very interested in), he was sure she wouldn't have played around with him so much and instead gone in straight for the kill.

He closed his eyes and ran everything through his head again. Timcanpy snuggled into his side and stayed there, as always. Everything was too confusing suddenly. Everything hurt his head...

_Great longing. Strong will, and lust and greed. He wanted to do something. He wanted to put all of the pressure on himself because... because... _

_'Because I cant remember_' he thought sourly. '_Why cant I remember?' _Had something really happened to him, like Levirrier said, or should he listen to Road, who he seemed to remember? What about Johnny and the Bookman Junior? What about them?

"What about what?" He asked aloud. "Why not just pick something and follow it through to the end?" He wondered. "Dont think, just go with what you like best..." He sighed yet again. How was he supposed to do that when every way seemed to overlap and bend at some point?

"_Keep walking until the day you die."_

His eyes widened. Who's voice was that, in his head? It was... warm. A good voice, but for some reason... "Like with Road..." He whispered. The tears just... came... how? Why? "Why me?" He asked so many times. "Why me?"

_Because I'm the freak here. _He thought bitterly. _I'm the halfbreed..._

It sounded foolish, but to him, it made perfect sense. Everyone... everything... it all revolved around two things: His Innocence and his Noah. Nothing was about 'Allen Walker' whoever he may be, it was all about the curse and the job. It was all about who he chose.

He could chose to sway the tide of the war if he wanted...

A manic grin spread across his face. _He could sway the tide of anything if he wanted..._

000

Levirrier strutted down the halls of the Black Order, as always, a smug look on his face that would suggest he owned the place. Link marched in a more modest was, amazingly enough, but it was still enough to emphasize his superiority over the rest of the Black Order. They paused at room number eighty-six on the twelfth floor.

Link stepped forward and knocked a brisk three times on the door before stepping back and awaiting it to open. It did within moments, the hinges shrieking slightly as the door swung inward to show the white hair and pale face of Allen Walker.

His eyes widened in slight suprise before he stepped aside hastily to allow Levirrier and Link to enter, along with two Crows. Allen narrowed his eyes as the latter pasted him. The rivalry was still there. The burning hate... the damn Crows, always acting better... like they knew Allen was so worthless he would be tossed aside at any moment.

Allen moved to the edge of the room as they filed in. Levirrier brought the single chair from the corner of the room into the center and sat down in it, never losing his air of superiority. Allen awaited whatever lecture he was about to receive silently, wondering slightly what he may have done this time.

Yes, there had been several points in the past while where Allen had screwed up somewhere or other and had gotten lectured, or in very bad cases, been forced to see Espidan. He suppressed a slight shudder at the thought of Central's personal torture machine. It didn't move his body, but his spine still seemed to shake.

"Allen Walker." Levirrier began.

"Yes, sir?" Allen asked tentively, somewhat worried about what was to come. Levirrier seemed to sense this and smiled in a way that really made Allen grow cold.

"Are you at your limit as of the current time?" Allen blinked and stopped himself from sighing in relief. He wasn't in any sort of trouble.

"Yes, sir." He replied. Levirreir gave him a curt nod.

"How long do you estimate it will be before you can safely invoke again?" He asked in a curt voice. Allen frowned momentarily and tried to feel how different the innocence's strength was from the Noah's. It was light trying to weigh two very similarly shaped objects, but in his chest and not in his hands.

"Pro... probably anywhere between two to seven days," He said somewhat embarrassedly. It was the first time in a while that he had to wait so long before being able to fight again. Usually, he would be able to invoke again within the next two hours of combat. As expected, Levirrier scowled at him.

"You pushed your limits, Walker," He barked, getting to his feet with a sharp noise as his feet hit the floor. "You are the _ultimate weapon_, with the ability to completely annialate the sinners and heretics of the world," He raised his hand high above his had and Allen closed his eyes tightly and braced for impact. "A halfbreed Noah and yet an Apostle of God, similarly a cursed human, _do you realize your fortune of not being discovered by anyone or anything else, Allen Walker_?"

The floor came up so fast Allen couldn't move his arms fast enough to catch himself and ended up sprawled up against the wall, laying beneath Levirrier and the Crows. _Shit... shit shit..._

And then, his left eye burned.

He let out a startled cry and his lift hand flew to cover it. He pushed himself up and turned to abruptly to look at Levirrier.

"Akuma in the main hall!"

**PLEASE READ THIS!!**

**Okay, usually I don't swear all that much (just the characters I write 7.7'') , but I'm making an exception.. Shit, I'm a horrible person, leaving you all with a cliffie right now, cuz I'm going to be gone and NOT WRITING for a full week...**

**Yes, you all heard me, I'm going to be gone for a week and not be able to continue at the moment. I'm going to be at a week-long camp (end-of-summer camp, and it's acting/dance and all that jazz. So... I wont have the computer for a week... but I WILL still be working, I promise!! I'll just have to hand write everything for a while, and my writing time will be very limited, so don't expect three stories to magically be updated the moment I get back... sorry... T.T -feeling the guilt- **

**and... right after I get back my school will start almost immediately, and I'm goin to be doing extra stuff after school and wont get home til six and I may still have homework then, so... eheheh... and I wake up at 6:45... so please, if my updates get REALLY slow... don't kill me... please?**

**I LOVE YOU GUYS!! D''8 I'LL MISS YOU ALL SO MUCH!! -hugs- I know I don't ask for reviews much, but... GIMME JUMBO SIZED REVIEWS THIS TIME, SO I'LL HAVE A LOT TO LOOK FORWARD TO WHEN I COME HOME, OKAY?? -supermajorglompattackseverysingleoneofyou!!- **

/watch?v8TYdJRQvOak&featurerec-fresh


	9. All Hallows

**HOLYSHITINABARRELWITHNAPALMANDABLOWTORCH!! 4585 WORDS, 25531 CHARACTERS!! EIGHT AND A HALF PAGES IN ALL!! 8'D oh my God, this is the longest thing I've written in FOREVER!! -tears of incredible joy-**

**oh yeah, I'm here, I'm swearing, and I'm misspelling ever few words. You know what that means! YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE IS BACK, FOLKS!... with more ways to torture people! **

**Okay, then... camp was awesome, but apparently, I comepletely forgot how to spell while I was there, because there was no spellcheck, so... my spelling was worse than ever while I was trying to write this by hand T.T but... hey! It got you a nice... FRICKING LONG CHAPTER! 8D**

**okay then, you've all been bugging for this ever since way back in chapter 1, and so here we are! And yes, at the end, what that ONE line we have ALL been waiting to hear implies... yes, what it implies is fact, for once. So...**

**...I should probably get back to writing my other stories, huh? (omg I havent written any of them in forever XD XD I'm sorry, guys! I'm still trying to catch up to everything I've missed in a week!!...including all the new anime episodes I've missed D8 "I wont forgive any of you!" dammit, I still love that line 3) **

**PLEASE GIMME BIGGIE-LONG REVIEWS! I PUT A LOT MORE EFFORT THAN USUAL (which is already a lot of effort) INTO WRITING THIS CHAPTER, SO I WOUD REALLT ABSOLUTELY LOVE SOME REALLY LONG REVIEWS!! -puppy eyes-**

**disclaimer: well, Hoshino and I both took the same week off so... no, actually I don't own it -crycrysnifflesob- ...actually, that's probably a good thing...**

Allen darted from the room and skidded down the hall before Levirrier could call him off. The Crow's magic was far out of range, so he just kept running, darting in between scientists and finders who happened to be in the hall. Half of them made sounds of suprise, others simply did not even notice him as he slid and weaved between them. The burning in his eye edging him on. Adrenaline and simple burning in his chest making him run faster and faster to the control room.

He couldn't fight, and he damn well knew it. His fight with Road had left him with a bad leg and Crowned Clown pushed to the absolute limit, so even attempting invokation could backfire with horrid results. Including that he hadn't had time to swallow the pill with restrained the Fourteenth's memories, his mind was less protected. He had to avoid music and the Akuma at all costs...

Still, that didn't mean the Akuma had to remain trapped inside the demons. He swallowed hard and jumped over the papers a group of scientists had dropped while moving. He faintly heard someone yell his name, but ignored it and simply kept running.

He was going to be in trouble later, and he knew it. He had abandoned his commanding officer and gone off with no orders whatsoever with no explanation nor permission. Running into the midst of a possible battle while he was supposed to be recovering. His mind was currently an unstable playing field which the wrong moves could easily trigger the Fourteenth to awaken and take over.

Gritting his teeth and supressing that thought, he slowed his pace at the familiar white door, but couldn't help knocking with force. When the voice of a somewhat strained head officer granted permission to enter. He opened the door just a little bit too sharply. He was still out of breath from running five floors when he leaned in the door frame.

"A-Allen?" Komui stuttered out, surprised at his sudden appearance... without Levirrier dragging him along for once...

"Supervisor... Komui..." Allen panted out. Those five floors had felt like a lot more than just five floors. "Akuma... in the main hall.." Komui froze cold. Akuma in the headquarters? Again?

"Allen, let me see your eye," He demanded, the first thing to spring to mind. Allen made a small noisse of suprise, but on instinct obeyed the order and held the white bangs off his face to show the monocle raging over his socket. The demonic looking eye pulsing and throbbing with audible growls and hisses, like a preditor seeking it's prey. Komui and several other scientists who had come to investigate the commotion all gagged and flinched away.

Komui coughed and cleaned his throat, trying to regain his composure before deciding on the course of action. "Allen, get to Inspector Levirrier and Inspector Link, find a safe place and protect them as best you can," Allen nodded and turned to run out the door, barely catching the remains of Komui's orders.

"_Rob, alert all golem systems, Marv, get Lenalee Lavi and Kanda down to the main hall at once!" _Johnny ran up to Komui. His voice died in his throat when he saw the hard glare of his superior. He was remembering the last time the Akuma had invaded headquarters... How many of them had died, and how Tapp had died in front of them all... a Skull... Tapp...

"Komui, let me watch over Allen!"

All things halted and all eyes locked onto the two figures in the center of the room. Johnny's determination died again right there and he began to stutter.

"I-I mean... I think h-he.. I..." Komui's hard eyes were faltering as he slowly came to grasps at what Johnny was trying, and failing, to say. He sighed but smiled softly.

"Hurry it up, Johnny, or you might not be able to catch him," He chuckled. "Allen wont be able to do everything, so you'll have to keep up," Johnny let out a nervous laugh, but all the same, he truned and fled out the door to where Allen would be.

000

Allen was halfway back to the room when the announcement sounded about the Akuma. He was probably the only person in the hall still moving when Rob spoke over the golem intercom system. It was slightly cracking with static, as always, but the message came through loud and clear.

Down three more halls, he finally arrived at his room again. He threw open the door to try to apologize to Levirrier when he stopped. The room was completely empty. He bashed his head against the wall and cursed himself for not realizing that Levirrier and Link would never stay in one place and wait for him to return, especially if he had disobeyed common sense and orders.

In Central, he was told to never leave Levirrier's side unless specifically told to or given permission. He bashed his head again and turned around quickly to began running again when—

"Walker."

He was slammed roughly against the wall. In shock, he stiffened and braced his arm for a fight as the hand tightened over his chest. About that point he dared to open his right eye (which still saw things other than souls) and he registered the voice was incredibly familiar.

"I- Inspector Levirrier!" He stuttered out. A Crow was pinning him to the wall, Levirrier looming above it, right in Allen's line of vision. "I- I'm sorry, I was reckless and lost control for a bit, Sir!" He went out on a limb there, groping around for some sort of excuse for his earlier actions.

Levirrier simply scowled darkly. "Do you realize your punishment will be servere, Walker?" He asked in his coldest voice. Allen swallowed hard and shook nervously, despite his attempts to keep a strong face.

"Y-yes, Sir," He said. Espidan would have a field day with him after this, Levirrier would make certain...

Levirrier snorted and the Crow released his grip on Allen, air returning somewhat to his lungs. He slid down to the floor, not realizing how week his legs had become under the Crow's influence. He groaned quietly as he pushed himself back up. Glaring at the Crows aside Levirrier's gaze, he regained his balance. He had a job to do, and they were certainly not going to interfere... but oh, he was so in for it once this was all said and done... Forget Espidan, the Crows were going to corner him and...

_Shut up, Allen, shut up..._ bile was rising in his throat, just by thinking about— there wasa time for brooding and there was a time for action. Act now, worry later, that was how he was supposed to operate. Do everything to complete the missions with as few casualties possible and when necessary, die to clear Levirrier's way.

But there was what Road said, and had made him remember. What if this wasn't even right? And he was supposed to be with the Earl and the Noahs right now? What if the Order really _had _taken him prisoner and somehow changed him? What if the incredibly short life of two-years he could remember was just a complete lie? Or... what Road said was a lie? What if both were a lie? He may never have even lived a real life... and if everything were true, he would never be able to rid himself of doubt.

Everything ached. His head hurt and his chest hurt. He would never be quite right. He was a halfbreed. A freak. With the Noahs he would be looked as a traitor, with the Pope, he would be an interesting experiment, as he had always been. With normal people, he was just a _freak_, plain and simple. He didn't want to hurt anymore...

_I don't want to die for a scumbag who'll abandon me in an instant..._

_'So don't, idiot boy.'_

Allen's eyes widened and he snapped out of his thoughts as the second voice in his mind. One he was quite sure he hadn't brought about or created himself. That was _not Allen_.

"Oh shit..."

000

Allen trotted down the hall, exactly three yards behind Levirrier, Link beside him, closer to the opposite wall. The Crows circled around them like swarmers, mumbling their odd language through the nearly deserted hall. Everyone was supposedly at there battle stations and posts, but the stragglers were still trying desperately to make it to one of the seven safe-houses hidden within the Order.

The sounds of battle raged on downstairs. Loud and horrible, crashes, explosions, roars of demons about to e destroyed... like all other battles. There was a high pitched shriek, barely coming through the floor to where he could hear it, but still present, nevertheless. Allen thought wildly of Lenalee Lee, who would most likely be fighting at that moment. Destroying with her Innocence Boots.

And here _he_ was, at least two floors above the Akuma, his eye blaring through it's socket to demand him kill them all. But he was useless. Weak. His Innocence level was so pathetic that the Fourteenth had begun speaking in his mind. One bad invokation and he was past the point of no return.

It sounded so foolish, so childish and cleche. Like something to build suspense in a story one too many times, but this wasn't a story. He was alive, he was a living, breathing, fighting, dying human being, and this was really happening to him. Living wasn't a story, life isn't a game. This, right now, was life and _Allen _was _alive_.

And in this world, to die and then return again brought nothing but suffering for everyone.

"_Keep walking until the day you die."_

Who? Who said that? Who's voice would, could, should mean so much to Allen that it would repeat in his head like a record? Who would possibly have such an affect on him he felt like he should be able to recite everything he ever meant to him, even under amnesia? Who would possibly change him and who he was and wanted to be? Who did that stupid old clown think he was?...wait, what?

He let out a low growl of frustration and continued to run behind Levirrier. Link gave him an odd look, but continued to run beside him dutifully, not saying anything and just ignoring it for the moment. The Crows, however, circled ever closer to them, making sure there were no large gaps Allen could possibly get to in his current state. They purposefully made him feel like a prisoner, like a mental patient that might cross the gap and become chaotic at any given moment. Like he should be locked up and never seen again...

He didn't like this, he _really_ didn't like this...

"What's wrong, Walker?" Link hissed rather sharply. Allen stumbled momentarily, but managed to keep up the pace well enough.

"Nothing..." He mumbled. "Eye playing tricks..." Link gave him another look, but if he were going to say something, he never got the chance.

Because at that moment, blood bullets broke through the floor.

Confusion. Allen shoved Link out of the way as dust flew everywhere. Flying, ventilating, going into his bronchial tubes and lodging there among the oxygen and carbon dioxide, cigarette smoke and water until radical coughing were to flush it out. He kept slipping, falling into the sudden hole in the floor. He couldn't hold. Rubble from the ceiling was coming onto him, beating him down. Bricks, stones, wood and insulation falling onto his head and shoulders.

The wall. He had backed into the wall somehow. No one was beside him. Link and Levirrier... if they had fallen— Another brick crashed into the back of his neck. He let out a small hoarse cry that was cut short by more dust. A strangled, simple movement of strained vocal chords made by shock, and it was so quiet, and the crashes were so loud... and, oh God, he was falling—

—and then he was being pulled up.

A small hand. One that could belong to either a boy or a girl. Weak from lack of exercise, but strong from excessive penmanship. It somehow dragged him up and away from the collapsing floor and shielded him from the falling rubble.

"A-Allen, are you okay?" All Allen could do was fall back into him and begin coughing. His arms and legs felt more like dead weights hanging off him more than anything else, and his eyes didn't seem to want to open, even the tiniest bit. Dear God, not here...

"Allen?" Johnny kept calling. "Allen, you're bleeding— Allen!" A warm something-or-other was trickling down the left side of his face, from what felt like his scar. His eye... He tried to open it, but it didn't move. It didn't even twitch or feel, as though all the nerve endings in it had suddenly gone dead.

His left arm... even his arm didn't work. Oh God... it was _burning_. He was on fire. His whole left side was on fire on the inside. It wouldn't ever go out, it burned. The blackened skin, scalding itself into an even darker shade as snakes injected into it their most venomous poison and it just _burned_. Oh fuck... oh, oh, fuck...

"Allen, wake up..."

He tried desperately to breathe, to stop coughing. It wouldn't. No, it was more like there was something in his lungs and throat with it's own will, and it didn't want to go. It wanted something else to go. Something other than the dust and slow decay he was trying to discard. He grabbed his neck with his right arm. He forced himself to stop. His eyes were tearing and everything suddenly felt so hot...

"Joh...nny..." It wasn't much more than a whisper, but it was something. Something to show that Allen wasn't yet dead. That the horrible coughing wasn't the last thing Johnny would ever hear from him. He hugged Allen tightly before he could catch himself, his glasses pressing into Allen's forehead.

Allen whimpered softly, making Johnny reflexively pull back right away.

"Allen, your scar..." He carefully rubbed a finger over the thin etching on the younger boy's face. A dent in otherwise mostly smooth skin. He twitched back the hand again at another cry of pain. The entire scar seemed to be... pulsing, like some freakish external heart. Allen looked almost as though he were withering with the pain it must have been sending through his skull.

Johnny looked around frantically as the dust slowly cleared. A huge hole in the floor cut the hall ruggedly in half. Levirrier and Link, as well as most of the Crows, had made it safely to the other side. For some reason, this truly irked Johnny. No one had bothered to help Allen, even though he had been right beside them. Still, this was no time for grudges. Allen needed help _now_, and anyone would be fine. _Anyone_.

"Inspectors, please help! Something's wrong with Allen's eye!"

And then the second wave came.

Blood bullets. All around them. The floor... the floor wasn't holding. Johnny's eyes widened behind his glasses and he latched on to Allen, careful to shield the younger boy's face without touching it. He closed his eyes tightly and waited for the impact as the floor collapsed under them.

Link watched in almost-horror as Allen and the scientist both vanished from his sight. Instinct told him to watch over the boy he had come to know rather well and pity greatly in the past two years. But Levirrier held him back.

"He cant survive the fall in his current condition. Don't bother looking, he's dead."

He turned and they continued to the safe house.

000

"_ALLEN! JOHNNY!"_

Johnny dared open his eyes only a moment after he heard Lenalee's shout and felt the strength of her arms holding them up. They were so high up, but they were floating... safe for the mo— "AKUMA!"

He clamped his eyes shut again and tried not to scream as he heard the sound of the Akuma's metal frame being shredded by Lenalee's boots. Worse than nails on a chalk board, because he flet his body shake and jar as Lenalee took them with her as she plowed through various amounts of the metalic substance until the chain at the center of the Akuma was effectively severed. And the explosion and screech afterwards, signaling the departure of the soul... gruesome, disgusting, and it was done daily by multiple exorcists. Oh Lord, how he wanted to puke... But he had to hold on to Allen.

"I'm sorry," Lenalee mumbled as Johnny slowly worked up the courage to open his eyes again. "There arent many Akuma left, but one went crazy and started firing randomly. I've been trying to catch people for almost five minutes straight..." Johnny nodded understandingly and clearly read the underlying message in her sad, apologetic tone. There had been people she let... slip through, hadn't there? It was the level four all over again...

There was a soft jolt as Lenalee set them on the ground. Johnny hastily spared a glance around. The room, once huge and impressive, was destroyed.

The stairwells were crumbled and it was nearly impossible to find a space larger than three square feet that didn't have some amount of rubble covering it. There were explosions some ways off. Lavi ad Kanda had still been fighting Akuma, entrusting catching people who fell through the floors to Lenalee. Akuma blood, and possibly the blood of... not so warped humans painted the spaces where things should be different colors. Where things should be blue and yellow and gray and black, there was only red.

Johnny felt the bile rise to his throat as he saw the fallen scientists and finders, or rather, what remained of his once-comrades. Lenalee patted his shoulder and nudged him forward. She was so strong at times like these. When fighting, she never showed a tear or weakness. Not as long as her Boots could be there to defend her world.

"The ones who made it are in a corner over there," She said. "They're hiding behind a blockade of rubble. Just go that way," She pointed off to the left before turning her head and making surre Johnny was looking at her in the eye.

"I don't know what happened to Allen," She whispered. Johnny swallowed. So she had seen his state... "But please, Johnny, promise me, make sure he stays alive long enough to come back to us."

Johnny blinked momentarily, but Lenalee did not break her gaze. Her hold on his eyes. He took a breath and straightened his back slightly. This time for sure.

"Yes ma'am!"

000

It really was a barricade of rubble. A fallen piece of ceiling so large it actually made a decent-sized cove. Perfect for hiding in, though once it was discovered, it would be so simple to attack. That was why the exorcists were trying to fight so far away, to draw the Akuma from the hiding place.

Johnny gritted his teeth and steadied himself again. Shifting Allen's weight slightly to better keep him up. And in all this time, the bleeding still hadn't stopped. It was almost giving him the idea Allen's body was trying to expel something through that scar. Whatever the case was, they needed to get out from the possible attack range.

"Hey, it's Johnny!" Someone called from inside the alcove. Johnny breathed out a sigh of relief. Someone could help him take care of Allen. His delight both soared and plummeted as he saw Marv and several newer recruits edge out of the rock-way.

"That's Walker!" One of the newbies cried out suddenly. He grimaced and flinched at the tone used. Marv scowled at the newbie scientist and marched over to where Johnny stood quietly, trying to support Allen, even though he was slowly failing and actually quite close to collapsing himself. Marv slid an arm around and took half the weight on himself.

"What happened?"

Johnny choked slightly as he quickly ran through the images in his head. "Allen— he set off the alarm and ran to find Levirrier and— and— the floor! He pushed Link out of the way and he got caught in it and— caught him— I caught him, but something weird happened and... and... Levirrier just... just abandoned him, after he saved Link and... more bullets... we fell and... he... I don't know!" Johnny cried. "Levirrier just abandoned him after he got hurt and his eye started pulsing and I think it hurt him or something, whenever you touch it he just— I don't know..."

Marv patted his back with his free hand and tried harder to hold Allen off Johnny's shoulders as they stumbled over to the hide-away. The newbies stepped aside and let them bring Allen in with only small noises of protest to their seniors. "Reever's here too," He said. "Floor fell in on him, too, but he's not hurt too much." Johnny nodded.

Sure enough, Reever stumbled over to them the moment they entered. His leg had been badly bruised, making it somewhat difficult for him to walk, but the site of white hair and the moment when Marv had called Johnny's name gave him plenty of reason to get up.

This was not a hopeless situation like the level four had been. They had exorcists fighting and most of the Akuma had already been destroyed, but still. The exorcists would be getting tired and the Akuma that remined would be the strongest and the smartest. Still, the exorcists didn't need their help right now. Allen and Johnny did, though.

"What happened?" Johnny gave a quick, confused reply, very similar to the one he had given Marv, who was currently crushing his cigarette into the wall. About the end, when Johnny mentioned Allen's eye going berserk, Reever bent over to examine the albino. They laid the young boy against the wall carefully, his head falling onto his chest.

Only then did Johnny really notice how bad Allen had gotten in the past ten minutes. His face was contorted in pain and sweat was running down his forehead. His scar was visibly pumping blood now, not just oozing it. He gave a small yelp, barely audible amidst his ragged pants. Reever lightly pushed a hand on Allen's right cheek, away from the throbbing scar, and groaned as he mumbled that Allen's temperature was far too hot for a normal human to stand.

"Allen?" He whispered softly. "Allen, are you with me?" Through barred teeth, Allen gave a small moaning sound and managed to open his eyes just enough for Reever to see the oddly dark silver colors of his eyes. Reever, Johnny and Marv sighed in relief as onlookers edged in slightly. Some were from the old Science Department, and were either trusting Allen or tapping back into the older suspicions they had carried with them. The newer members were confused on how to feel about Allen Walker, the boy from Central, being so close to their seniors.

Reever held Allen's right hand and asked if he could talk at all. The absence of a reply was all he needed. "Okay, squeeze my hand for 'yes', alright?" Allen gave him a very soft squeeze as a reply. He smiled encouragingly.

"Can you see?" Allen squeezed lightly. "Okay... can you move around at all?" No reply. "Is it just your eye?" No reply. "Can you still move your hand?" Another vary light squeeze. Reever breathed in relief. He had been scared for a moment they had lost Allen, as he had closed his eyes again. "Can you move whatever else is hurting?"

This time, there was no squeeze at his hand, but his left arm twitched. Allen barred his teeth and hissed. Reever blinked and laid Allen's right hand on the floor again. Slowly and carefully, watching Allen's face the whole time, he rolled up the sleeve on his left arm and unclasped his glove.

He moaned in disgust as he saw the state of Allen's arm.

It was pulsing, like his scar, throbbing, twitching, oozing blackish liquid as the veins that had forever been invisible stood up through the skin in vibrant colors of which and blue. The actual hand looked as though it were a quarter of the way to it's invoked form, it was larger and the fingertips, sharpened to points capable of gorging out eyes, the tips laced with strands of gray and white. It truly was leeching off Allen... so this was why it was called a parasite...

"_AKUMA!_"

All eyes and heads turned so quickly quite a few may vary well have gotten whiplash. The opening... there was an Akuma, level three, flying at them at it's top speed. It was coming for them, and there was no exorcist nearby. It had slipped past their block and it had found them. They were going to be butchered, burned until they were dust. Dead!

And Allen couldn't do a thing about it as his eyes finally opened entirely and his head was able to think through the haze of pain.

_'Break your limit, idiot boy.'_

No time to worry about who that voice belonged to or whether it was really trying to help or not.

"**CROWNED CLOWN!"**

So bright... some of the scientists cried out in shock and fear as the half-formed Innocence rose up in it's fallen glory to shield them. The once beautiful silver mask was chipped and broken on the right side, the cape and cowl tattered and ripped to the point where silver strands were dipping and unweaving from the complex pattern they so thinly wove into.

And yet Allen lay on the floor, twitching and crying out in the waves of utter _pain_ that the invokation had caused, the breaking of his limit and the state of his mind with the Fourteenth's. His arm had grown to twice it's thickness and the white strands that had covered his fingertips were now roping themselves onto the blackened mass of bloody arm.

Blood was splattered under him. His eye... right in front of Reever, Marv and Johnny, tendrils appeared on his face, stretching his scar as if trying to rip his face off of his skull. They dug deeper and pulled, and bled as Allen cried through his right eye. Slowly, to Reever's absolute horror, the white of bone truly did appear through the breaks in Allen's scar. His face had been pulled away completely in one thin spot, enough for him to see the white of a skull...

Allen opened his right eye just a crack. His head... his head was going to split... it hurt so badly... Reever... Johnny... Marv... no...

No, he couldn't abandon them like this, not now. Any time but now.

The sound of an Akuma exploding wretched through the vast hall. He went completely limp as his Innocence deactivated and his arm returned to it's normal size. The left side of his face seemed to slither, as though play dough had been slathered on it and was molding there. Suddenly he realized his left eye was opening and that he wasn't in pain anymore, just... being.

Absolute blank.

No... there was something.

"Johnny, I'm sorry, I never came back."

And then there was black.


	10. Walking On Water

**I think my hands are really excited to be writing this story. I mean REALLY excited. They don't want to type anything else... really, I've been trying to write other things, but this always comes out so much better than anything else I try to write...**

**six pages this time. It's a super uber fast update, because everyone seemed anxious to what happened next, but if you can... comment on BOTH chapters 9 and 10, okay?? THANK YOU ALL FOR STICKING WITH ME THROUGH THIS STORY!! Q-Q this is certainly not the last chapter, I have a lot more coming (hopefully...) so stick with me a bit longer! **

**I was trying to write this and the next _Before it was Lost _chapter and my original story at the same time, so I had three word documents open and I was working on BIWL when I had a brain-fart (THEY EXIST!) and I thought for a moment I had been writing that same chapter again when I realized this was a blank and I hadn't written anything yet -laughs at herself- oh man, if I had really rewritten that whole thing...**

**...My paragraphs are so long suddenly... oh well! If no one can think of critique, than please just give REALLY LONG REVIEWS, cuz I think I'm becoming a review whore... I cant stop rereading them -dances around before reading reviews over and over and over-**

**IMPORTANT!**

**okay than, enough with the AN, this is getting longer than I want it to be (again). But I'm starting school TOMORROW and am supposed to be a 'special friend' to one of the new students from Korea (it basically means I talk to them and show them around and help them learn English better) so I don't know if this story is going to be updated as often, so if there are breaks in my updating, please... I just got addenza to put down the chainsaw... I don't need to die just yet ;-;**

**disclaimer: THIS IS TOO LONG ALREADY! I DON'T HAVE SPACE FOR A DISCLAIMER!!**

It was quiet here. It was quiet and peaceful and he loved it here. Because it was dark and beautiful. He was surrounded by it, by the eternal night in this place. No, you truly had no idea how it was there. It was silent, or mostly so, only the sweet, soft melody of the piano filling the empty space. Only the calm, quiet and yet strangely calming sounds of fingers pressing down on wood to make padded hammers bang on strings within a lifted white hood of a machine made out of wood and wires.

He just rested there. No, for once he didn't really care that his hair was somewhat in his face, or that his clothes seemed to be several sizes too large because the scumbags at central couldn't bother to get him proper fitting clothes. No, it was just... being in the essence of being. The sweet enjoyment of not being thirsty or hungry, or worrying about money or whether your loved ones are safe or not. There was a sweet peace in that which nothing at all could replicate.

The moon above him no longer seemed so strangely imposing, for neither it's joking grin nor it's size or eerie rays which didn't seem to illuminate could make him fear. For a moment, he simply stared up at the stars which littered the sky in their pure, eternal simplicity, as they shown joyously in the dark blueish-blackness. The snowdrop flowers, with their moping heads and petals that looked like droplets of milk, were all that littered the edge of the lake as far as he could see.

Ah, it was snowing. The soft, small white puffs of cold fell to his hands and hair. Several landed on his tongue, which poked out of his mouth as far as it could. They cascaded down in slow, seemingly rhythmic patterns, some landing on the surface of the black water and causing soft ripples. So simple, so beautiful, and elegant. This was the world... this was the peace he had been fighting for for so long. Three years, to be exact, five if you wanted him to make a dent in your skull.

No, this wasn't a time to think about fighting. Those two years ad been largely wasted on pointless suffering and tears. Pointless fears and schemes. He was within the world, the earth. He was within the very soul of the world and he was, utterly and more truthfully than any of the previous, within his own self.

Black like his wardrobe, white like his hair and skin, red like his scar and his arm and his ribbon. Three colors to make up an existence with. But he did not want any more red than himself in this place. It was still pure, still untouched. If you were to ran him through with a sword, this place would still be kept pure. Only the body will perish, the mind become corrupted and the heart be murdered, but the soul will always remain untouched as long as the truth is nether good nor bad, but simply the truth, so by point of fact, the soul is never to be destroyed.

Allen smiled and stood up within himself. It was the most peace he had found in so very long. Oh, and so close to the ones he had missed for so long. He was so close to them, so much closer than even the night he had been cursed for his life. So close he was willing to deny the obvious non-sense there was to what he knew he could do.

Within himself, the impossible was quite easy and the truth was never mixed with lies. Small ideas and attributes became large and the ugly was in fact so very gorgeous. Everything meant nothing ang if nothing was said, than nothing would have happened. Everything foolish and illogical could make perfect sense and there were always those he knew he could trust within the back of his soul, tucked away like pieces from the puzzle he would complete when the clock tocked on midnight.

And so, standing at the very edge of the lake, he lifted his foot again to attempt what few still believed possible for a normal human. One with little or no celestial power and worse yet, one who was simply a street rat with no luck. And so, he smiled with simple, pure, unfiltered delight as the snowflakes suddenly began to move at a rapid pace, they formed into streams and danced around each other, all coming towards him like currents in a river might.

And when his foot was to touch water, instead he touched a foot stone of snowflakes. He didn't bother to test their weight endurance and instead, lifted his other foot up to take another step. Yet still, more snowflakes flew out of the sky to make a foothold for him. And yet again, and yet again, and yet more until he was in the complete center of the lake.

The black water was so vast and huge and still, not a ripple now dared desturb it's smoothness as Allen walked over water on snowflakes. So simple and sweet, so fun and normal and yet so very, very odd. On all sides, he saw nothing of land, no boats passed him in these waters and no fish swam below, yet he walked forward and onward as the music steadily gre louder and more beautiful.

And oh, the moon was so beautiful above him, and the snowflakes continued to dip and flow around him in their rivers, yrt never touching the true black water. And still, up ahead, he saw the light he had been searching for the whole while on the lake. And so he took another step and was a quarter of the way. So close, so very, very close to them all.

And slowly, the other shore came into view. A low shore, and unlike the one he came from, there was grass. The shore was green, though a darker green, as it was nighttime here always. Slowly, the snow pulled away and left him to trod through the now shallow water.

It was very cold, in point of fact. The water soaked into his long pants which were carefully tucked into his boots. The slight ripples he made as he walked only carried several feet before vanishing again into the darkness of the water.

The first thing he noticed as he stepped onto the other side? The large, perfectly carved, well tuned, music making piano. A grand piano, quite unlike the one in the Ark, actually. It had more of the piano's shape and size and less of the harpsichord style and sound. There was no twang as the keys were pushed down softly, making a quiet or a loud noise. No, just the long, low, beautiful sound of the piano as it was being played.

And then all at once, it stopped. By a foot on the middle pedal. A figure stood up from behind the piano.

"Good evening, Allen," He called cheerfully. Allen smiled back.

"Hullo, Damian," He called, unaware exactly how he had gotten the name so easily off the tip of his tongue. Or also, how simply he had reverted to his not-so formal tongue.

Damian was, in the simplest context possible, _Allen_. No, there were very key differences, but it would have been odd for anyone to see them at that moment. They would, in fact, possibly have thought them twin brothers. Damian's hair was parted in a similar style to Allen's, and was relatively the same length. However, his hair was a lovely shade of light bronze or copper, and where it parted over his left eye, there was no scar nor visible curse.

They were about the same size, and their facial features looked very similar. Their preference in dress was different, though. While Allen was in his white shirt and vest, Damian was in a set of dark blue piano robes. Allen smiled slightly as he realized they wore the same red-black striped ribbon around their necks.

"Dont step on this shore," Damian warned. Allen smiled back. "You wont be able to walk across again if you do."

"I know," He replied. Damian smiled back.

"I'm sorry I was so short with you earlier," He said sheepishly. "Your thought process was rather annoying."

Allen shrugged. "I should truly be thanking you," He said, reverting to his more formal speech pattern. "Without you, I may not have invoked in time."

Damian frowned. "Please don't take it the wrong way, it isn't as though I enjoy causing harm. Especially to those important to me."

Allen smiled understandingly. "Please, don't worry," He said, "I don't think you caused that on purpose." Damian sighed in relief. "However..." He tensed back up again. "...I would rather you try harder to not do that in the future," The haughty smile on Allen's face was enough to make it all seem like a silly joke. And so Damian smiled.

"I was panicking as much as you," He said, "Though I may try, that does not mean I shall be eternally successful."

Allen smiled wider now. Damian's heart sank as he had a feeling he knew where this conversation was to lead to. A most unpleasant subject, as far as he was concerned.

"True enough, because you shant have me." Allen scoffed. Damian shuddered.

"It was a selfish mistake I made," He explained. "I did not intend to implant myself on a person whom had a will and a soul of their own, I had hoped and attempted to find a mother who's fetus had yet to obtain a soul of it's own," He pleaded with Allen. "I do not know if fate had a hand in it, but it was not so and I became a host to a child who gains his own soul very early in life and, quite amazingly, had an innocence!" He raised his hands up, as though trying to tell how he had not intended the coincidence.

"Point of fact," He continued. "I didn't expect Mana to adopt you, nor him to teach you the song. Even less did I expect you to be such a person as you are," He continued on. Allen blinked confusedly. "I may be a noah, but I have a humanity of my own and truly do wish to help humans," At Allen's face, he sighed and looked down at his feet.

"I truly like the person you are, Allen, whether or not you hide your truest demons within..." Allen blinked. He hadn't expected to find himself in a situation where a person claimed to know all of his inner demons.

"However, once the process begins, it cannot be fully halted," Damian hung his head in shame and defeat. And so this was how it was to end. How _Allen _was to end. Levirrier had truly had a brilliant streak of inspiration when deciding to feed Allen pills to remove memory. In order to have the override, Damian's memories were necessary. By removing all memories within Allen to a certain point, he had ensured the change would be at least temporarily delayed.

And yet here now, was Allen, in full memory and consciousness of what had transpired, and thus, allowing the Fourteenth Noah that had been forever leeching off Damian to slip ever further into him.

"So no one wins?"

Damian looked up. Certainly not the words he had expected. No, rather, he had expected Allen to be angry, to rage at him and swear, but words so calm and controlled as those were truly unexpected.

And slowly registering what had been asked, Damian hung his head again and shook his head. "I am truly sorry, if I could, I would gladly back out and let time go as it was supposed to... I should have simply let someone else have the Earl..." There was a bark at his side. "Alan?" He asked, blinking.

The dog panted and wagged it's tail and barked again. Damian smiled at the dog the boy standing before him had taken his name from. Brown black and white. Ah, they were overlapping colors. Alan barked happily and trotted his way over to Allen, jumping into the water and running up to lick the boy's left hand.

Allen smiled and rubbed the old dog behind the ears. "Damian... you cant change history, no matter how hard you try." Damian blinked, but listened to what Allen had to say. "When you attempt to change history, then you only make that attempt another part of history. And in the end, everything has already happened and you will have let chances to make right that bit of history you do desperately were trying to change, but you were too busy to notice."

Alan bounced up onto the shore again and shook his shaggy coat to dry off.

"And so, just accept that history is as it is and what's done is done. What's gone is forever lost, so all you can do is live with what's leftover," Ah, that was it. That was the real reason why Allen and Damian were so distinguishable from each other. Not the hair, not the cloths, but the eyes. Allen's deep silver met with Damian's frail gold. A strange combination of strength and sorrow and the weakness to need but the strength to get up passed through that connection their eyes shared in that moment. Pure and complete.

"Damian Gray-Man, whether you like it or not, you are a Walker," Allen said. "Sometimes, as much as we hate it, Walkers have to pick up the pace and leave behind that which cant keep up." Allen took a deep breath.

"If one day, I fail, I entrust my body to you and thereby, the job of destroying the Earl. However, until that time comes, I shall fight your intrusion with all that I am, Allen Walker, son of Mana. Clown and Exorcist," The message was sent and the connection was broken. The water rose up like great snakes around Allen and swallowed him, carrying him away from the soul of the world, and his very being.

And so he awoke in a hospital bed, bandages over his eyes as though he had gotten optical surgery quite recently, listening to the conversation being had several beds away from his own.

"He's been in a coma for nearly a month. It's scary to see Inspector Levirrier this angry," That was... Komui's voice. He had been out for a month? Had his mental strain on operating Crowned Clown away from his body taken so much strain? Or perhaps it was because he had been so close to falling off the edge that day with his Innocence out and his mind racing?

"At least people are starting to feel better about him, now that he's nearly died for them _again_," Reever mumbled, his voice clearly telling the tale of a week with little or no sleep due to damaged and overtime paperwork.

So people were starting to accept him back into the Order, _not _as a dangerous heretic, when he was about to return to hell-hole-Central? Brilliant, guys, who was writing his life and why was everything going his way when nothing at all seemed right? Really... everything had made perfect sense when he had been inside his own soul and ended up walking on water by actually walking on snowflakes... now how did that not make sense?

"Levirrier's said something about him acting out on his own... I really don't understand that _thing _sometimes..." Komui sighed. Matron butted in quite suddenly.

"His heart is accelerating, Head Officer, he may be waking up soon," She said, her voice happier than Allen had ever heard it before.

"Really? That's great! Matron, I have to thank you somehow, name anything, anything at all, just thank you for saving him, than you so—" Allen could almost picture the Matron pulling on Komui's ear to get him to stop talking.

"Well, you can start by doing your own work, Head Supervisor," There was quite a bit of laughter at the Matron's statement before her footsteps dutifully sped away to care for another patient in need of her superior medical skills.

"She's right, you know," Reever said, his words bouncing from laughter. "You really _should_ get your work done sometime soon..." Allen's eyes fluttered open. The conversation had gotten boring now, and he really didn't want to hear a rant about paperwork the moment he awoke, so he figured it was about time to spoil the little party. They would be happy, anyways...

He let out a small groan to draw their attention. It was almost impossible how well it actually worked. Footsteps were quickly approaching his bed. Slowly, using his right arm, he tried to push himself up, carefully making sure there wasn't much strain in his limbs.

"Allen? You're awake?" A soft, kind hand rested on his shoulder, Allen blinked and realized only one eye was actually open, and that there was a tight thickness over his left eye. His left arm was everything in semi-close context to paralyzed, and from what he could tell, wrapped in layer apun layer of bandages. His mouth was dry and he felt somewhat like he might faint and fall right back into the coma.

"Komui," His voice felt strange. His speech hadn't been this bad since several of those time Levirrier got a bit out of hand with his 'repentance'. Yeah, yeah, repentance his ass. It was all just a big excuse to see how long it would take for Allen to become a cripple or spill all the Noah's secrets, despite he adamantly denied knowing anything more than what the Order knew. Still, he felt as though he were going to puke at any given moment. Not what he needed at all. "What happened?"

Komui lifted his hand and sat down on Allen's bed. His blue pink-bunny coffee mug that often gave Allen a sense of deja-vu made a soft clunk of the bedside table as he set it down and pushed his thin-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "How much do you remember, Allen?"

"Um," Allen looked up at the ceiling. The lights were bright and it almost hurt his eye to look at them. In his mind, he was trying to form an answer. How much exactly, did he remember? "About seventeen years worth," He said, a large grin plastering his face.

Reever dropped the several hundreds of papers he was carrying and Komui almost fell off the bed. "Allen, you—"

Allen's smile faded slightly and his face took on a more saddened, depressed look. His visible eye gre strangely dark, but there was still a very small, satisfied smile on his face. Something that looked very, very real. "I'm home," He mumbled.

Komui opened his mouth in suprise and made a small stuttering noise as Allen fell onto his shoulder. The white haired boy seemed... oddly grown up. Komui watched as his one eye slowly closed and a look of peace washed over his face. His entire left side was covered in bandages from the wounds the back-lash of over-extending himself had inflicted. Komui smiled.

"You saved us Allen," He said. "You saved the scientists down in that hall, they're all alive."

Allen smiled and snuggled closer. He was so tired, even if he had just woken up. "I missed you guys..." The half paralyzed left arm held tightly onto Komui's. He smiled and smoothed down Allen's white mess of bed-head.

"Welcome home, Allen. We missed you."

**notes:**

**The snowdrop flower was supposedly created when a snowflake turned into a flower to comfort Adam and Eve when they were banished from Eden. **

**Saint Damian was sacrificed with his twin brother Cosmo for some reason that I've forgotten, but the name idea originally came from me thinking the Fourteenth's real name was from the title, D.Gray-Man, so I went with the first English names I thought of that started with 'D', and the first two were 'Dominic' and 'Damian'. I just searched them to see if they really were English or not.**

**POLL... sort of...**

**okay guys, this story probably will be coming to a close eventually. Three chapters at the least, and I don't know about the most, but it'll be more than three, so I decided to ask you all now:**

**Since I've already decided how this is going to end, I sort of came with the idea I could carry on from what I had very easily, and so I was wondering if any of you would like a sequel. If I DO make a sequel, I am warning you now, there will be OCness, many very possible pairings, and OCs, as well as me straying as far as to try to end the series as I see it possible to happen. **

**so... VOTE NOW! Cuz I need to know if I'm going to plan a story line...**

**BYE, GUYS! 8D Wish me luck at school! (yeah, I'm one of those people who doesn't hate school. I'm weird like that :q )**


	11. One Past, No Future

**Wow guys, I feel really stupid, I thought 'annoyment' was a real word xD**

**Also, I have a confession... I think Levirrier is AWESOME! (please read next paragraph... I dunt wanna be hated for that...)**

**No, I still love Allen and the other exorcists and the Noahs major lots (especially Allen :3) but there is something about Levirrier that makes me think he's awesome, and that's why he's getting his fifteen-seconds-of-fame in here, so try to understand it and... maybe people like him small bit more? -hopeful eyes- (sorry, I just don't really like characters I like being utterly hated, so... yeah 7.7; )**

**There is SOOOO much swearing in here, it's not even funny anymore xD Sorry, I was in a mood when I wrote that one scene, you'll know it when you get there xD**

**nine pages, 4085 words xD whoo! I'm on a roll!**

**Disclaimer: if I owned DGM, I would've made sure that after a two-week wait that there was a halfway decent chapter that DIDN'T end in YET ANOTHER cliff-hanger T.T Hoshino-dono... why??**

The sounds of footsteps. Heavy, angry, heels clicking on marble flooring and rhythmic clunks as though there were many accompanying that first pair of shoes. Like there were army boots, meaning soldiers. They were all marching in time, their boots making that warning sound as they paced down the long white hallway to the private medical ward for instable patients and important meetings with injured clergymen, as well as a place for the dying to be in peace with their beloved for the final moments.

However, Malcom C. Levirrier had not come to see an old friend on a deathbed, as he had no remaining friends. Much less likely was he going to visit some menial whom had gotten in the way as the Akuma had attacked last month.

No, he was headed for the most unstable patient, though it should certainly not seem that way, as the child was seemingly ever-smiling and after a week, quite ready to be released from his 'white prison' as he seemed to call the medical ward. Much to the annoyance of the head nurse.

He had requested the private ward for the highly one-sided conversation he was about to have with the treacherous child. He wanted no witnesses to what was to transpire, and he wanted no account other than what he was to display to the Order to reach out. No, his story would be truth, his story would be _right_.

Because that was the problem with Levirrier. He could never accept being wrong. He was that sort of person who believed everything he did was for the sake of justice and salvation. He had no way of emotions and no way to convey his philosophy of the world to others to make them understand.

The way of being raised was to be force-fed the family idea that everything was a sacrifice for God, and that those accomodators were granted by God to return to him. In addition, as carrying the name Levirrier, he too was a sacrifice. He too would be martyred at some point in time, and when he did, he, with his higher understanding, would not struggle against fate as the exorcists would.

He would gladly die on the cross, however, until then, he had a job to carry out. A job to punish sinners and prepare the just for the final battle, after which their purpose would be fulfilled.

Link opened the door for his, and Levirrier held his back as straight as he could as he entered the room. He purposely tried to send out a horribly intimidating aura. His suit was even more primped than usual, and his hair slicked back so even the one strand that seemed to always fall into his face was in place. He had practiced his scowl so rigorously that morning that he was quite sure he wasn't going to smile again for a long, long while.

Allen Walker was sitting calmly on the white bed, it's sheets unmade and his pillow propped so it seemed as though he had been sitting up in bed for a good long while. There was a book on the bedside tabel, as well as a small rim that seemed to be a coffee stain for a leaking mug. Levirrier ignored any importance to the title, _Redwall_, It was unimportant.

Allen Walker was bandaged almost completely. His entire left arm was bandaged to the point that not a hint of reddish-black flesh was visible. Even under the heavy bandaging, the arm looked unnervingly thin, as though there were nothing but bone beneath, as though his arm had lost half of it's mass in his coma.

The left side of his face was also bandaged, forehead to chin, covering his entire scar and denying any sight of it. Under his chin was another bandage, though one that had gripping edges to cling to the bottom of his head without needing to bind his whole head, and around his neck was yet another ring of bandages that went from the very top vertebrate into his white hospital gown. The smallest slip-up in the binding showed a very thin red line that Levirrier assumed to be yet another injury, perhaps received.

He had apparently cut his hair yet again, so it was to a fine crop in the back and the bangs were swept to the side of his face, to Levirrier's confusion, the current sweep would completely expose the scar on the left side of his face should the nurse decide to remove his bandage, but that was not the issue at hand.

"Allen Walker," Allen twitched at the mention of his name and turned his head upward from his sideways position to look at Levirrier directly through his one, dark silver-gray eye. Much deeper and stronger than Levirrier had ever seen it. It was both infuriating and unnerving at the same time, to see _Allen Walker_ looking at him like that. "I am acting under assumption your memories have fully returned."

Allen snorted at Levirrier and rolled his eyes, "Oh no, _sir_, I just happened to be in a bad mood and claimed to remember all that shit, but _of course_, I didn't," Levirrier scowled at the over-pronounced sarcasm.

"Very well then," Levirrier spat. "I am sure you are well aware of the punishment for a crime against the church?" Allen scowled.

"Hasn't that been outlawed?" He asked.

"No, Walker," Levirrier growled in a low voice, "It is simply that there has been little or no need in the past hundred years. You will be the first in a long, long while," Allen snorted and looked the other way sharply, not flinching nor wincing as he twisted the supposed would on his neck.

Levirrier growled low and angrily, like a dog. A dog who had its big, juicy bone snatched away under its nose... He trod several steps closer to Allen. The boy visibly twitched as he heard Levirrier approach, as though he knew what was to come. Levirrier's lips slowly curled into a smile as a somewhat sadistic thought crept into the back of his mind. There was no way to see it, as the boy had foolishly turned his back.

"Allen..." He whispered, brilliantly imitating the late Cross Marian.

White hair flashed through slight changes of lighting as Allen's head whipped around, mind in numbing shock by the painfully familiar voice he had missed for two, ugly, long years. Perhaps he was hoping for his general to be standing there, in the room, possibly with Judgement to Levirrier's head, or beating the guards, or even simply being hidden by Magnadalia Curtain.

Whatever the case, the moment the silver of his single uncovered eye flashed from behind the thin curtain of white hair, he was no longer on the bed.

The crack echoed around the room as the floor came up. His left arm flew forward, knocking into a large glass bottle of medicine painkiller and shattering it, sending bits of sharp glass spraying onto him as the painkiller stained his clothes and bandages, seeping into wounds and making them burn as though the seeming fire that had caused them had returned.

It was no where as intense as what had happened before. Not even a comparison to that, but it still burned him immobile. Pieces of glass had forcedly lodged themselves into his left arm, cutting through the bandages easily, blood seeping out very slowly. But his arm had nothing on what his eye felt like at that moment.

It was being... the scar... his scar was being ripped off of his face... His stomach churned, like telling him he was going to be ill if he didn't stop whatever he was doing. He moaned quietly and his body seemed so damn heavy...

In front of Levirrier. Again. He was always weakest in front of _him_. It was pathetic... why was it always him? Why...

The muscles in his arm contracted violently, and he swore out of the corner of his tearing eye, he saw several of the guards wince at the sight, though whether it was in pity or disgust, he wasn't about to know.

He jolted horribly when a heavy, uneven object, like a boot, crushed his arm. Tears were creeping out of his one eye, and hoarse shouts pierced his throat as his arm was painfully ground into the floor. The boot twisted the glass and broke bandages, exposing the blackened skin to the world, the flesh being scraped away in flakes as it was scruffed in the wrong direction. "_STOP IT! FUCK YOU! DON'T TOUCH MY ARM!!_"

Allen swang his right arm up. It went farther than he expected, hand clutched into a fist, and Levirrier stumbled back, half in shock, half in pain, clutching his stomach. Hacking. Several of the guards dashed forward to aid him, but he shooed them away with one hand, the other still clutching his gut. The glare he sent at Allen would make even Kanda's blood run ice cold. Lord, or lack-there-of, have mercy, should Lenalee ever see it.

"You are a true abomination, Allen Walker," He huffed out,wiping his mouth from any siliva and bile that may have risen in his throat. "A monstrosity I must end..." Allen breathed unevenly, his chest heaving as he struggled to rise.

He literally was trying to remember how to stand. There was little he was capable of processing at the moment, only that he was in pain, he was close to barfing, and that he could not, no matter what, show his weakness in front of this man. Somehow, that will brought him bak from the edge, ever so slightly.

He abandoned his left arm, letting it hang limply at his side and just be pulled along with the rest of his body. Right arm down, palm on the floor. Push up. Knee on floor, slide up onto it to support weight. Prop up other knee, and push up. Hand leaves the floor and the first leg steadies as the second straightens, forcing his upper body to straighten.

It was rough and uneven, also a very bland way to run it through his mind. But standing was hard... for a person who wished to walk until he literally keetered over dead, it was so hard to simply _stand up_. He should have no hope of ever _walking_. He had to try, though, even if his legs were shaking horribly and he was gripping the bed for support, he had to stand. At least, he had to stand. If he was going to be shamed, he was at least going to stand up of his own accord, and not be dragged to the alter for his... his...

_'The word you're looking for is martyring.'_

He gave a low growl that burned his bile-filled throat at the familiar voice. Breath in and breath out, slow down. He was close to hyperventilating. Slow down. Breath. He took one breath after the other of air, gulping it down like a dying man his last cup of water. He stood there, wobbling and trying not to fall as his face and arm scorched him beyond his mind, while breathing in the same air that Levirrier spouted his insults.

"...a filthy wretched beast who condemned himself with his own greed."

_Yes... yes, you fucker, I'm greedy, isn't everyone?WELL?_

_'Allen? What's with you?'_

"A freak born of the darkness, and past the point of salvation to the light."

_I jumped in, asshole... I jumped in headfirst..._

_'Allen, stop it.'_

"Created from the foulest depths of the earth and polluting the very air as you breath and the Earth as you walk. Walker, Allen, you are, without a doubt..."

_I was born from my _mother._ I was the tenth child born and my family was burdened! _

_'Allen, you're losing it! Stop it!'_

"...the foulest, most wretched..."

_If they hadn't abandoned me, I might have been taken to the penthouse or the treadmill, the only thing they could do for such a deformed child was abandon me!_

_'Allen, listen to me, please!'_

"... and ultimately, the disgrace of this world."

_'ALLEN, DONT!'_

"FUCK YOU, LEVIRRIER!"

_To be honest, I didn't know what I was doing. I was just in a blind rage when it happened. I didn't realize what I was doing or what the results would be. I don't know what I was hoping to accomplish, I was just going. Lunging at him, even though I really shouldn't have been able to in that state. I don't know, all I saw was red. Pure, disgusting red. My colour._

"FUCK YOU!" He shouted, knocking Levirrier over, his hands balled into fists and raised high, flying down and hitting every time with a sickening thunk. He Held Levirrier down with his body weight by sitting on the man's lower body. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

_Red. Only red. I didn't care what was going to happen. I didn't care. He insulted me, and he insulted my origins, and he insulted my blood family, and he insulted my mother! The bastard... the bastard needed to die for what he'd done! I had killed before, I knew how. It had never been all tea-and-cakes on the streets, and when I had to, I would lower myself to the dogs and I would kill. I would do it again, I swore it!_

Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. The guards ran up and tried to hold him. He thrashed and swore at them, threatening to kill them too, and the look in his single eye swore to them he wouldn't hesitate, just because he hadn't in a while. It was a promise and it scared them. Enough so that they momentarily forgot Levirrier and Allen broke free from them. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.

_I beat them to death. I stole knives and I slit their throats. I forced their guns against them and made them shoot their own heads. It was to survive. To walk forward forever. Whether or not I knew it at the time, that was what I was doing. I could remember it all. My nine other siblings, all working around the house, helping my mother and father as best they could, praying every night they would not be taken away. They loved us all. All ten of us, and then there came the day they just couldn't anymore._

Seventeen. Eighteen. One of them grabbed his right arm and twisted it above his head, automatically assuming that Allen wouldn't dare to strike with his left, in fear of wretching pain. He was so stupid. Allen hit as hard as he could with his left hand, fairly sure he had broken something in Levirrier's jaw. Oh, dammit, he hoped that whatever celestial being was up there would let Levirrier's jaw be broken. And again. Twenty.

_She was beautiful, far to beautiful and kind for the life she had been forced to lead. And then that day, all she said was 'live' as she left me in the alleyway. She kissed my forehead and my arm and wished me good luck before she ran in the other direction. She had been crying. It was her final option. She had made the most painful choice that had been best for me and my family. She had hated it, but she did it! I would never forgive Levirrier for insulting her!_

"I WONT FORGIVE YOU!" He was wretched up and held in a death-like grip by almost five soldiers, and still, his jerking and twisting almost let him out. Almost, so close to being free and killing him. So close...

The arm around his neck was strangling him, whether it's owner knew it or not. He sputtered and choked as he yelled, screaming and howling at Levirreir that he would kill him. He would kill him. He would. And so the guards held him tighter as the others aided Levirrier to his feet.

"Get away!" The barked command made the guards immediately halt their movements of aid and jump back, away from the infuriated man. The infuriated, _powerful_, man. The sudden weight of what he'd done suddenly crashed down onto Allen as he watched Levirrier wipe blood away from his mouth and bruises were already beginning to form on his face.

Allen fell silent, realizing what sort of battle this really was. Fists would get him nowhere, but it was already too late for that. Once more, he tried to breath, finally notiving his arm and his eye were burning like hot embers were being rubbed against them. He forced that to the side of his mind. If the pain got too bad, then there was no hope for him even putting up a fight. Not that there was hope for him in the first place. He was doomed.

And everyone in the room knew it.

But nothing was going to be worse if he at least put up a show at the very end. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and just tried to think. Things. Faces flashing across his mind as he called them out into his subconscious. Lenalee, Lavi, Miranda, Krory, Kanda, Bookman, Johnny, Tapp, Reever, Komui, Cross, Mana...

Slowly, his heart calmed down and his head cleared, the pain only being a small, irritable stinging. He was sure his eyes were physically clearing and becoming cooler. His fever must have dropped, because some of the guards made confused noises. He breathed again, slowly, realishing every breath of air, because when he was gone, he wouldn't be able to make himself force calm.

He opened his single eye slowly, like it was so tired that he could hardly make it even flutter, even just slightly. Levirrier seemed to be doing the same, or nearly so. He, rather, was simply trying to stop his eyes from twitching in his pain. Dammit, that fucker needed _more_. He had to be _hurt_ and _betrayed_.

_What's wrong with me?_

_'You're angry, you have to calm down!'_

He breathed harder, trying to calm down. He had to calm down; there was nothing more disgraceful then being dragged to your death kicking and screaming, begging for mercy. He wouldn't go like that. Not if he had his own will still intact. Another deep breath. His lungs inflated with the cool air he needed.

He tried again to open his uncovered eye. Lock with another, silver and gold. Levirrier huffed and glared at Allen. His eyes narrowed to those menacing little slits. He rubbed his mouth and winced as he felt a spot that had been subject to several very harsh impacts from Allen's left hand. The traitor had just confirmed himself and sealed his fate. Had the boy been wise enough to cooperate, Levirrier might have been willing to spare him and have him as a special force dedicated to destroying the Earl.

The foolish boy.

"Have you... any... conscience of... what you've... just done?" Allen was still breathing hard, trying to get enough air through the soldier's grip, but otherwise hanging loose in their grasps. Never breaking eye contact as he gave his reply.

"Yeah... I'm screwed anyway... so I figured... might as well..." He panted out, oddly exhausted by his actions. Levirrer's eyes narrowed even more, should that even be possible. Allen Walker was mocking him, wasn't he? The vile little fool with a God-complex and a misguided faith. If only he had had the sense to follow along without acting out, the Order might've had a new ally rather than a traitor who desperately needed to be _put down_.

"Foul... little... freak..."

"Stupid... brain tumor..."

"Betraying scoundrel."

"Overinflated... ego fucker...

"Creative, arent we?"

"I insult Kanda a lot, I picked up stuff..."

The guards watched in confusion as Allen and Levirrier regained their breath and began spitting insults back and fourth. It was more of a heartbreaking scene than anything else.

Opposite ends. They were both now being supported by soldiers, lashing out with their tongues now, arguing much more viciously than fists could ever do.

"How long did you stand in front of the mirror this morning to get that thing on your face, anyway?" Petty insults were riling up Levirrier quickly, burning into his mind as Allen Walker managed to push him farther and farther to using force. "And fuck, you look God-ugly, have you been worried that much about me that you forgot to eat and sleep? Sad."

Levirrier's face was slowly growing redder in hate and he was twitching forward towards Allen as the insults grew more and more scathing. "Damn fucker, do you feel so crappy about yourself that you have to make everyone else miserable? You're worse than half the drunks I know— and I know a damn few, mate."

One of the soldiers must have sensed what would happen if this continued and tried to cover Allen's offending mouth. He yelped and tried to jerk away as a row of sharp teeth clamped down on his palm and fingers, immediately drawing blood.

A single silver eye glared at him. Tinted with a bloody red, somehow etched into him by hate or simply being bloodshot, was never to be known. There was blood from the soldier's hand leaking down his chin, his teeth still digging into the tanned skin. _Don't try to stop me._

And then he was thrown against the wall.

"Link?"

"Sorry, Allen," Link muttered as he tightened his grip on Allen's throat. "You were far overstepping," Allen tried to snort in a deft defiance, but the strangle grip didn't allow any air for the scath. Instead, his noted in panic Link's hand was, whether he knew it or not, slowly pealing the bandage from his neck.

His hands lurched up to his neck and pried at Link's arm, trying to get it off. Panicked noises barely escaped his throat and the fear certainly didn't ever escape his eyes. The panic he had hidden since the first time he saw his face since he awoke slowly came over him and he was soon yanking and scratching to try and make Link pull back.

And finally he just kicked out a bit too hard.

Link gaged and wretched backward as Allen's knee hit his gut. His hand gripped on reflex as he stumbled back, ripping the bandage off as he fell back, holding his stomach.

The entire room grew incredibly cold.

Link blinked in shock. "Your neck..."

Allen shook his head. "Scar..."

From a distance, it looked like a large, black bruise on his neck. From as close as Link was, it was a tapestry of minute lines and patterns weaving into something undefinable, and vanishing under his shirt. Hidden from the world.

"Take off your bandages, Walker."

All eyes, including one, wide, fearful silver eye, were all suddenly focused on Levirrier. The soldiers holding him up immediately released him and allowed him to stand on his own. Allen flinched awake and pressed into the wall as he approached, regaining his balance and that aura that made him simply wish to crawl away and hide.

And then Levirrier finally lost his patience. The guards were on him, holding him to the wall, ripping at the bandages on his face. He couldn't move as they tore them off with little restraint and even less care. He could only scream as their nails burned into his face.

And cry as they saw him.

The scar had grown, tendrils creeping out of it. Dead looking skin contrasted its color, paler than ever before, to the black scar. Only the pentacle remained its usual blood red, but it had an intruder as well.

A large, black 'D' in old English font.

And his left eye no longer had an iris. Or if it did, it was no longer silver.

All the soldiers backed away, letting Allen's legs give way as he slid down to the floor, still crying. Levirrier seemed to, for once have lost all his voice. Link just stared in horror at what was becoming of Allen. One of the few decent people he had met in a long time.

And then Levirrier found his voice once more, speaking over the sobs in the corner of the room. Uncaring.

"Allen Walker, you will be burned at the stake tomorrow at nightfall for your crimes against the Orgonization of the Black Religeon."

**what will I do next? xD**

**Vote for a sequel! Yes or no? TWO CHAPTERS LEFT!**


	12. Six Hours Until Execution

**...It's shorter this time, cuz I didn't have much that was going to happen... ugh... I'm sleepy . it's about 11:33 here, and I need sleep, so I'm trying to keep this short (for once, I may succeed)**

**so... yeah, nothing to talk about, but there's one last chapter to go, then it's off to a sequel!! Yep, you heard me. If I tried to turn down a sequel after so many people said they wanted it, I'd be eating pitchforks an torches for a month... But just FYI, the sequel will have bits of the pasts I think the characters might have had, some OCs to keep the plot going and my version of the end, so... just look out for those if you read it. **

**It probably wont get up for a month at the most, a week or so at the least after I finish this, cuz I need to catch up on my other fics -is so dead- so... yeah. Oh, and it's probably going to be pretty long (ahahahah...) cuz I have a lot to do planned out already xD You guys really know how to get me working on things! I love being able to write so easily after I get another review!! They really do help!**

Okay then, I'm about done (so much for short...) so... DISCLAIMER: I have neither given nor reci... oh wait... wrong oath... um... owning stuff is for squares! 8D (best I could come up with, sorry...)

His arm blazed and withered again in protest as the restraint was put on him. Twisting, suffocating his arm and dragging him down with such a weight that in the corner of his mind he was fearful his arm would simply be pulled off him at any given moment.

Tendons and ligaments stretching to absolutely impossible lengths as newly exposed muscle would slowly bleed and bones and marroe were pulled free from their strands and eventually completely out of their socket...

By now, everyone in the Black Order must have known. Must have been told, must have seen the image, a picture, maybe even a golem recording of him in this cell. It was too late for him. Musch too late. The tiral had already taken place, and he had failed to find any way to defend himself, as he truly had no excuses at the time. It had been a long, long time ago.

Two years, seven months and twenty-six days, to be exact. Two years, seven months and twenty-six days since that rainy night. That long, horrible, rainy night when he should have gone back. He should have gone back to Lenalee and Johnny. He should have been told of his master's death by Komui and not some anonymous soldier. Should have, could have, would have, didn't.

_'You're making me sad, Allen...'_

Allen snorted at Damian's voice in his mind. "Shut up, you're not the one who's out here in hell."

_'I thought we decided that was a good thing...'_

Allen groaned quietly. "Well duh. I swear it's a miracle I'm not insane though, with you talking all the time..." Somewhere in the back of his mind Damian scoffed. Allen scowled back and hoped it transmitted, or whatever happened, to the deepest depths of his concious, where Damian was currently unintentionally annoying his over-stressed mind.

_'If I happened to be in your situation, I think I might enjoy having someone to talk to.'_

"Well, when and if we trade situations, I'll be sure to talk loudly and obsessively in your head whenever you want quiet," He hissed. Damian immediately fell into a apologetic silence and bit by bit, vanished from the far back of his conscious.

"Thank you," He sighed, rubbing his forehead exhaustedly as best he could with his right arm chained just as throughly as his left was bound up. His eye was still blazing, but it was almost normal now. Just a constant pain to nag in the lesser part of his mind.

The guards briefly turned to look back into his cell, questioning the odd quiet, fearing silently that their charge had escaped. If he had, then Levirrier would spare them no mercy in their punishment for letting the traitor escape. It was little comfort to them that they knew he truly was in to condition to stage an escape.

However, a glance at the young man slowly wasting away in the cage was enough to calm them, though. And yet they held guilt, despite that they knew what this child was capable of. They had seen the recording of what had transpired in the hospital. They had seen the killing lust in this boy that now seemed to harmless. So weak. Was it wrong to be afraid?

For several hours now, the boy had been mumbling to himself like he were a madman. Speaking as though there were another person beside him and talking to him. Sometimes he nearly shouted and other times it was all sighs and mumbled requests for quiet. All the while speaking a long, strenuous conversation with himself. Or perhaps something else.

And yet he looked nothing like a person who would be able to tap into another being, especially like this. The chains around his right arm and neck were clamping so tightly onto the skin that his veins had begun to rise through his skin to try and clear the circulation path. Pressed scabs had been rubbed and reopened to begin bleeding once again.

Fresh bandages were plastered haphazardly onto his face and neck, giving the distinct impression that the one whom had the task of rebandaging his face once the original bandages had been ripped off was not the head nurse. Instead of taking the time to carefully make sure his face was well protected, they had instead focused on getting it done and getting away as fast as they possibly could.

Small specks of blood leaked through the thin binding on the entire left side of his face because of the poorly done work. A thin sweat covered him, darkening his clothes in places and leading on the impression that he was completely overheated, despite the fact that the cell was absolutely freezing. The guards themselves were sporting two thick coats and scarves, meanwhile, all Allen had was his thing shirt and gloves.

His left arm twitched slightly, even within the crushing bind. It too, was bandaged with good reason. His arm had deformed to an incredible standard. So much that it seemed as though his chiseled black skin had been taken off and everything except for the bone had been removed.

It was wrinkled and twisted over his bone, and it looked more like a dead limb rather than anything else. The tinge of red had grown more notable. That and the still glowing green cross imbeded in his arm were all that showed his Innocence was still alive.

It was disheartening, sitting there, silently, trying his best to ignore the pain that reminded him constantly how he was going to die that night. How he was going to be suffocated and burned in front of the very people he had spent a good portion of his life desperately trying to protect.

The play was over, the curtain about to drop, and his finale was to be a supposed cleansing in a glorious blaze up on the only stage he never wanted to walk onto. That one stage Mana and Cross had both told him not to ever go near should he be able to help it. It was oe thing to be martyred, it was another to be martyred for something you knew wasn't right.

He took a very deep breath, trying to push that thought away as well. So many things he would rather not think about... what good was there to think about? Everything in his world had been utterly destroyed long ago, and he did not blame Levirrier for that.

It wasn't Levirrier's fault. He knew that much. It was a complete 'what if' senario. What if he hadn't been born with his left arm? Then he would probably be dead by then by starving with his family, or been overworked at the treadmills and penthouses. Either that or he would still be being raised at the church, not being executed by it. It was a sick irony that after being dropped in an alley that a nun happened to being walking by and he had been spared death.

Now once again. What if he hadn't left the church? He didn't like it there. Too many rules to abide, too many people pitying him, too many adults, and no future. Yes, the future had mattered to him even back then. The future, what was in front of him, had always been what concerned him. Would his friends be alive tomorrow to talk with him? Tomorrow, would the Earl be dead? Tomorrow, would he himself still be alive? Well the answer to that one was a bit obvious, but it was, for once, no time to dwell on the future.

What if he had never taken to odd-jobs? Would he have found the circus? What if the dog had never ever licked his hand? Would he have ever noticed the clown digging the grave for him? Would he have stopped to ask if the dog was dead? Would he still be here in the Order, even if that hadn't happened? Would he be with the Earl? Would he just hate the Fourteenth, rather than near-worshiping his older brother? Would this be so hard if all of that never happened?

What would he be like if he hadn't been born with such a damn soft heart?

He cried for a dog he had only met once, without even knowing it's name. He had cried even more when he realized how similar their names were and then, he even changed the letters and pronunciation of his name so that he was a walking gravestone for the dog? What if he wasn't such a damn idiot to begin with?

_'Allen, look up.'_

Allen twitched, not expecting Damian to speak after so long of a silence. Nevertheless, he removed his arm from its position of covering his face and eyes to look up at whomever or whatever Damian had noticed while he had been lost in thought. Perhaps it was good to have two pairs of eyes.

He was certain he was imagining things when he saw that stupid white biret and and curled hair.

"Komui!"

Allen jumped forward without thinking about it, his arm giving a jerk as the chain twisted and stopped short of where it was supposed to. A foot away from the bars. Allen winced at the shock sent to his should and fell backwards onto the wall.

"Allen, be careful—" Komui near shouted as he landed, bending over to be at Allen's level. Allen groaned as he twisted his leg and tried to force himself into a sitting position. He gave a weak laugh and an apologetic smile at seeing the worry etched on Komui's face. Komui sighed and straightened his back slightly, though still kneeling at where they could see each other well.

"Are you alright, Allen?" Komui asked, one hand gripping the bar of the cell, holding so tightly his knuckles were white, even in the darkness.

Allen swallowed and shook his head sadly. He was far from alright at the moment. Komui's face hardened and he turned to the guards, motioning for them to leave. One guard looked disgruntled and confused. He voiced it.

"Supervisor Komui, if we leave you allow the _heretic_ might try something."

Allen clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Just because I'm a freak doesn't mean you have to call me that at every chance you get," He muttered. "It's almost as bad as being called a beansprout..." Komui must have heard it, because he too gave a feeble laugh.

Komui smiled at the guard. Something that hadn't changed at all; Komui's smile. It was really like he was your older brother, watching over you all the time, even if there were things he couldn't do. Lenalee was so lucky...

"It's fine, go take a break, you must be tired from standing here all day," Komui told him. The guard blinked and stuttered at the obvious kindness in Komui's voice. He must have been used to Levirrier.

"B-but sir!"

"Please?" Komui asked, closing his eyes and tilting his head to look something like a child. "You're tired. Get some rest," The guard sighed and did, finally, stalk away. Komui turned and rounded on Allen, who was feeling oddly out of place, for some reason he truthfully couldn't imagine. It was just a sudden awkwardness that made him realize he had no idea what to say.

He released the breath he had been holding for whatever reason and looked down at his feet. The only parts of him not yet injured, and the first that would burn in the fire. "I'm sorry."

Komui blinked. "Sorry for what?" He asked. "It's not your fault, Allen, and it never will be."

Allen smiled weakly but still avoided Komui's eyes. "Who's fault is it, then?" He mumbled. Komui laughed again and sighed.

"No one's fault," He declared. Allen did finally look up in his confusion, momentarily forgetting his awkwardness. Komui smiled again at the reaction. "The Fourteenth just wanted to bee able to fight the Earl; an innocent want for him," He explained. "The Pope ordered that all traitors should be killed, but it's all ultimately for the Order. The Inspector and the guards are just following their orders, as well as the Crows..." He let out a small sigh before sticking a hand through the bars and doing something very odd.

Komui pulled Allen into the bars, stretching the chain as far as it would possibly go, and holding Allen in a tight hug.

"Allen, you're the victim," He said. "You're a victim of life and the God who governs it. If there would be anyone who was truly innocent, you would be it."

Allen's eyes heated up. "You don't all hate me?" He asked. Komui shook his head, making the chain clang as it tightened and loosened against Allen's wrist and neck. The was a soothing circular motion on his back. Komui was trying to calm him down. Allen took a breath in through Komui's lab coat. It smelled like coffee.

Was this so wrong? Was it so wrong that simple words could make him cry like this? That all he really wanted at the moment was an older brother, or that he could actually go outside to see the sun before he died? Or that maybe he could die in a less painful way?

Why would he be the one who had to break his friends hearts? Why would he be the one up in flames when all he wanted to do was save people and demons alike? Was it so bad to have fallen in love with the Earth, or to be a little different, or to be unfortunate?

Was it so very bad to be a Walker?

Slowly, the plan formed in his mind. Twisting around the gears and being reshaped by the clogs. Tossed around slightly, and maybe even mauled a little. He was decided within moments of what he wanted to accomplish. He wanted maybe some moments of fear, and perhaps something for them to learn should it succeed. And just as importantly, he wanted it to get him _out_.

"Komui? Do you trust me?" He asked quietly. Komui blinked as the voice of the boy came out. It was uneven, as though he were struggling to not cry. He sounded as though his throat were being clogged with something he really wanted to say but absolutely could not get it out.

He nodded, nevertheless. At this point, the one person he felt deserved trust was Allen Walker.

"Komui, I need you to do something for me. Tell Lavi that I'm really sorry for making him do this..."

And once it was said, there was little left to say. The guards would be returning soon and yet Komui was still crouched on the floor, hugging a prisoner whom was to be executed very soon. It would be a very odd scene should Levirrier, or any anti-Allen viewer see this.

Komui understood, somewhat, what Allen was asking for. The chances were certainly not in the best, but that hardly mattered if they now had a chance for life. As long as there was life, there was hope, and that was all Komui had learned in all these years.

He smiled and rubbed Allen's back a short while longer as Allen slowly erased the boundary he had forcefully irrected for the past half an hour and his head drooped onto the bars, and partly, Komui's arms.

"Lenalee is so lucky..." Came a faint mumble. Komui looked up at the sound of words exiting Allen's mouth. And then he smiled once again, very faintly, as Allen explained. "I wish you were my older brother..."


	13. Pride of Tomorrow

The entire Black Order was summoned to the center hall. The area was far from a hallway, and more of a ballroom. Or so it would have been, mirrors lined with golden designs framed them and paintings similar to the beautiful Sistine Chapel ceiling the great Michelangelo himself painted. An ancient sort of wood, the tree most likely long extinct, made up all the doors and frames, carved into woven pattern of angels and devils enacting the armageddon.

The floors, bright white marble, were tiled and specks of gems and gold were wound into the pattern of the separation, sanded down by possibly several thousand workers to the point where it was impossible to tell them apart from the expensive marble unless you looked down, for they were so flat your foot wouldn't rase up a millimeter.

However, today, few people were paying attention to the gorgeous room they were currently waiting in. No, what held their attention so very harshly was the _thing_ near the wall, directly across from the double doors.

A huge rock pile, five feet tall and ten feet wide each way and a large wooden cross of oak, large enough to be equal to two men standing atop each other. Small piles of pine wood were stacked at the foot of it with tufts of dried hay littering about. The purpose was obvious:

To burn.

And for someone to ask 'who?' would earn them a furious glare from the small group of exorcists in the far corner of the room, who seemed to be hearing _everything_ and yet nothing at all. They spoke to no one but themselves and certain members of the science department, such as Reever and Johnny. All exorcists were currently in the Order, as Miranda and Krory and Noise had recently returned from a mission in Southeastern Germany, where Miranda had grown up.

There were at least three new exorcists, all which had suddenly found themselves exiled by their seniors. They were all in the opposite corner of the room, talking animatedly amongst themselves, wondering what had happened to make their comrades change so rapidly and drastically. They had no knowledge that the one who was to be executed had once been their close friend, though they were slowly working towards that discovery.

Miranda was in tears, mumbling to herself how she should have been here to try and help him. Krory was trying his best to steady her. Johnny and Lenalee were hugging each other for whatever comfort they could get and trying their best not to fail themselves and be reduced to the tearful, useless state. For once, they could not find it in themselves to comfort Miranda. It was too difficult for themselves already.

Lavi and Kanda leaned beside each other in complete silence as the hall buzzed around them. Kanda was trying desperately to ignore everything. However, the moment he heard _the name_, his head would whip around and he would send the most savage glare in his arsenal, and along with Lenalee and Lavi backing his glare up, anyone who happened to be in the line of fire would instantly fall deathly silent.

Lavi was still finding it almost impossible to comprehend what he had been asked to do. It was difficult to think what a burden had been placed upon him, whom was not supposed to not care, and yet he couldn't help but worry what would happen should he fail. Should he have one screw up. It was almost a relief whenever _his name_ was mentioned that he could turn and glare at the perpetrator, though it was ultimately releasing frustration on an innocent bystander. Or at least mostly innocent.

Marie was being silent. He neither wished to glare at those who mentioned the boy, nor explain and receive the glares. Rather, he wished to simply pray that his former comrade' s soul would finally find the peace his earthly world had so long, forever denied him.

And then, the double doors across the stake and firewood were thrown wide open silenced the crowded room far more effectively than any of their most enraged and heated looks ever could. Four cloaked figures storde in, masked in purple— the holy color of royalty. The Crow guards in all their sinister presence, unknown by most, but infamous among those more informed in the audience.

However, it was the figure they were escorting that drew the true attention. His arms were tied behind his back in ways that looked immensely painful. The entire left side of his face was covered in bandages, stretching down to cover his neck.

All he wore was a simple black robe. Normal fabric. Easily burnt. It contrasted his skin and his hair, both near paper white from constant bursts of servere illness and from not being exposed to sunlight in so long, coupled along with his natural tint. However, his eye, one exposed eye, drew much more attention than anything else about him, even the hair, purest white so brilliant it seemed to glow.

But still. It was just his eye. Silver and gray in a contrast that wasn't quite white. They were half hidden by white eyelashes, but nevertheless, they held something deep within them that no one could quite place as the crowds of people parted to give them a clear path to the pyre.

Inspector Malcom C. Levirrier strode in pace behind them. His black leather suit accented with a plain blue tie, and his hair, combed back and gelled so even that one strand that always seemed to get loose was perfectly in place. The man had been anxious for this day to come, when yet another traitor of the Black Order had finally been apprehended. It was halfway clear what, as all eyes flew to the white bandage on his cheek. The 'accursed' had not come quietly.

Lavi swallowed hard and began to make his move, pulling out his hammer at its smallest size and carefully edging around to the back of the pyre while the Crows, his friend and Levirrier all made their way forward. He stole a small whisper to Lenalee and Kanda. _"You'll know when."_

For several moments, he stared at him. The person who had seemed like the younger brother he had left behind so long ago. Had taken his place as the boy he wanted to play with and protect, because they were family. And yet, he still could not imagine doing what he was about to do. What he had been asked to do.

Oh, but Lavi hoped his younger brother had a plan. He wouldn't be able to do this. It had been a miracle Komui had even been able to relay the message with everyone as tense as they were. He swallowed the doubt in his throat and did his best to sneak behind the pyre unnoticed. Meanwhile, Allen walked forward, ever coming closer to his death.

Two Crows led the white haired boy up to the cross. He kept his head down and eye closed at all times, allowing the Crows to guide him and thus, not giving any resistance when they forcefully shoved him up against the wood and jerked his arms around to bind him and looping a noose around his neck and tying it to the wood as well, so any attempt at escape would snap his neck.

Levirrier stood between the two remaining Crows, an overly smug look on his face as Allen was jerked around, perfectly at his eye level. The crowd around him was still deathly silent and almost immobile as they watched the spectacle. He smiled menacingly for a moment before fishing around in his coat pocket for a small roll of parchment. With a last glance at the accursed, he drew the attention onto himself as he began to read.

"Allen E. Walker, is hereby to be punished for the following charges," He paused a moment to make sure there would be no interruptions. He smiled as the crowd was still silent. "Heresy against his religeon, assault on a soldier, assault on the Inspector, attempted murder, contacting with Noahs, accepting the offers of the Millenium Earl, and being the heir of the Fourteenth Noah."

The hall burst into chaotic whispers and accusations. Few could believe that this boy, this small, kind, gentle looking boy was such a traitor to them. Had he no pride? Had he no respect for their hopes? How dare he!

"DEATH TO THE TRAITOR!" A man in the crowd shouted. Others joined in with his cries, all yelling for the death of Allen Walker. It was all the exorcists could do to not attack them right there. To not rip to shreds the people they had vowed to protect.

Levirrier cleared his throat loudly, and everyone fell silent again. Awaiting. "Punishment for a crime against the church, as to precedent; Allen E. Walker will be burned at the stake until he is dead," The hall filled with whooping cries of victory. Johnny burst into tears in Lenalee's arms.

Levirrier turned and glared at Allen, waiting calmly as people displayed their intense hatred of him, not caring at all that he was in the room, awaiting his imminent death. "Have you any final words, Allen Walker?" He asked loudly as the hall slowly fell quiet once more.

Allen smiled. His eyes still closed. "Though you may think otherwise, _I have nothing to repent_."

_And then the boy fell deep asleep. The gasping flames within the ashes _

Levirrier lit a match and tossed it onto the heep. It burst into ferocious flames, immediately engulfing the figure tied to the wooden pole. Allen screamed.

_One by one rise up and expand into that beloved face._

Lavi hated this. He was failing. His Hammer was far too small. He grew it several inches until it was almost a foot and whacked it gently against the pyre. Praying to a God he wasn't sure existed to make this work. Now of all times, let it work.

_Thousands of dreams suspended from Earth._

Kanda was gripping the first thing he could, which happened to be Mugen's hilt. His knuckles were white as he gritted his teeth and listened to the screams. The chilling, pleading screams of a person being burned alive. Torn apart as his skin was peeled off him, smoke entering his lungs and his body decayed much too quickly. It was sick. Sicker than any Akuma massacre he had ever, ever seen. But there was nothing he could do. Nothing but pray Lavi wasn't going to screw up.

_On that night those silver eyes trembled, you were born, shining brightly._

Johnny was now relying completely on Lenalee for support. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't rely on himself to be strong and to comfort them when they needed him. He was letting them... everyone down right then. He was admitting he was useless. And then he couldn't even have the strength to hold onto Lenalee anymore. He slid to the floor as a flash of silver, the exact color of Allen's eyes, flashed through the flames for just a moment.

_Hundreds of millions of months and years. No matter how many prayers are returned to the Earth._

Lenalee cried. She wanted to scream, she wanted to yell and shout and make everyone see Allen didn't deserve this. It would be no use, and she knew it, but she wanted to try. There was something utterly crushing about this. Something that was completely wrong. What was more tragic than a hero becoming this? Becoming... being torn away, and beaten, and made useless. And then being disgraced like this... there was something so wrong... so wrong...

_I shall continue to pray._

Komui fell to his knees. Finally. "A kiss for closed hands, Allen... please, come out of this... you have to...live."

Lavi felt his hammer vibrate under his grip. He looked up to stereotypical heaven. Was there really someone up there? Like... like some sort of Father? Some sort of Mana? It was working...

The screams slowly began to subside, the figure in the flames stopped thrashing, everything seemed to slow. It had only been several minutes. This was far too fast for anything to have happened. This was much too soon for him to be dead. This was supposed to be a slow torturous method of killing. Cleansing the soul by flame and burning the sinful body to ashes as ashes they came from.

And so, everyone had some similar sort of thing on his mind. _Was he dead?_ Lavi and Lenalee trembled in horror. They couldn't have been too late, but what if they had been? What if the smoke and lack of oxygen had suffocated him? What if the flames had devoured him? What if he had just given out entirely, his body and mind unable to bear this strain?

And what if he was alive?

The silver of the Ark, falling glass from the sky slashed through the air and opened its dimond-shaped wormholes wide for entery. Wind for their maker's will. In utter shock, no one moved. No one took their eyes off the Ark nor the figure still masked by flames, but now oddly standing straight, as though he were completely uninjured. Alive.

"Inspector..." A Crow hissed to Levirrier, slowly backing away. "The fire has no smoke..." Levirrier's eyes widened in realization. He gritted his teeth and barked his command. It echoed throughout the hall.

"FIND THE APPRENTICE BOOKMAN!" Lavi almost screamed in sudden terror as the hall sprang to life, the flames still roaring in the center of it all as he crouched low and hoped to be passed over. If he were caught now, and his hammer pulled away from Allen, there would be nothing to stop his burning. Nothing but tears.

And then, someone tried to yank him away. Lavi risked one hand to spin halfway around and whack the perpetrator on the neck. After the much-too-loud thud, he turned to see that the person he had just knocked out was a rather large finder. Shouts were approaching him. The impact had been loud enough to hear, apparently. But he couldn't move. How had Levirrier discovered it was him so quickly? Was it his fire? Was there some aspect of the original he hadn't been able to reproduce? He hoped Lenalee and Kanda would find him before anyone else did...

"_We found 'em!" _Lavi twitched and pressed his hammer harder against the rock. He had to keep the flames under control long enough to burn the ropes while not completely burning Allen. That one time in Japan, he had been under mind control when he had told the flames what to and what not to burn. It was hardly as easy in full consciousness. It was much, much more difficult. He couldn't seem to get it right. He couldn't seem to stop the burning.

He froze up almost completely as the soft clicks of hurried footsteps and the swishes of thick purple cloaks rose from the not-quite silence behind him. He couldn't fight off Crows. With his hammer, he might have a chance, but like this, he was completely useless in a fight.

Cold hands on his shoulder, circling around his neck to either snap it or tug him away. It all depended on if Lavi should resist or not. Neither looked particularly appealing by his point of view. He really didn't want to be there right then... he didn't want to die, but if Allen died, it would be even worse, but if he died, Allen would be dead anyway, so everything would be pointless, but he couldn't just give up. He needed help. _Now_.

"Move it!" The unmistakeable sound of steel and silver-lined boots crashing into a skull rang behind the shout. The hands vanished in the wind. _Lenalee, thank God... _"Are you okay, Lavi?" He nodded numbly, still focusing on his vibrating hammer in his trembling hands. If Allen made it out of this alive, he should be beyond grateful... Lavi was giving up his entire Bookman Clan for this. Oh yes, there would probably be another heir by now, but still... His ass was going to be handed to him on a silver platter by the Panda, whether this worked or not.

"Stupid Rabbit..." Kanda too? That was something he really hadn't expected, whether he was holding Allen's fragile life in his hands or not. It was amazing what the simple _thought _of the kid dying could do to even the hardest people. It was like a part of the world that had to remain there, even if it was beaten several times over. As long as Allen was there, they had a reason to move forward and an ideal to meet. Whether other people realized that or not, they were not going to let him die for something so trivial.

There were sounds of struggle behind him, but he tried to focus completely on the vibrating hammer in his trembling hands. The ropes were weakening... being torn apart by the flames while the arms they bound together remained mostly intact... Oh, what horrible pain Allen must have been in right then. It made Lavi halfway ill to imagine he was the cause of the slow agony.

Even if Allen wasn't burning, it was still incredibly hot inside that furnace. He would still be suffering from the burns he had gotten before Lavi had taken the fire under his control. Heat, especially to such an extent, was the absolute last thing he needed at that moment. The ropes weakened even more, to the point where Allen was beginning to fumble with them in an attempt to undo himself and possibly escape before his body gave out from the unbearable heat and pain.

Lavi only then dared glance over his shoulder to see how Lenalee and Kanda were faring. His blood froze at the sight of them trying to hold back almost fifteen Crows at once. Even with their Innocence activated, there was little they could do except avoid binding spells and lash out when a Crow came too close to them or the invisible line they had constructed.

And they were faltering. The Crows were pushing them in closer and closer to where Lavi was still trying to hold the vibrating scrap of Innocence and metal in shaking hands. It was going to take too much time to burn everything without burning Allen, but if he tried to speed up then the particles around Allen would accelerate too fast and he would be burned again. Too much chance on that. He was probably already near-death from heat stroke...

Lenalee screamed as two Crows burst through their blockade. Lavi was going to die.

"STOP!" A blinding flash of some odd mix of red white and black. Mostly black. Or white. Or red, maybe? Lavi's single eye, no matter how elite it was, could not register the movement, nor the figure, nor anything else about his savior other than the human shape and the fact that he was in a position to easily snap both of the Crow's necks with a simple wrist movement.

"I'll do it," Allen swore, "You've all seen me before, right? You know I can do it," The robe he had worn was tattered and frayed with badly burnt edges and holes where sparks had landed. His hair was badly singed in placed but untouched in others, and he was covered in angry red burns. The open air must have been so painful... maybe even more so than the actual fire...

The bandaged had been completely burned off his face. His left eye was narrowed to the point where the speck of a pupil was hardly visible under his lids. The two Crows were bent under him, his hands on their heads, awaiting the moment to snap down and end the two forever if necessary. And yet it was still Allen, but a much older, much more worn Allen.

"And what exactly do you hope to accomplish, Number Fourteen?" Levirrier weaved his way through the considerable crowd that had gathered to watch. "Surely you cant be hoping to brainwash every exorcist here to be your personal army?" The newer recruits flinched. Obviously they hadn't been around very long. They were already a part of the Pope's personal army, or maybe it was just because Allen was a declared traitor the thought scared them. "Should we add that to your list of crimes against us?"

Allen snorted in a way that suggested he felt highly insulted. "I don't know how many times I've said this, but..." He took a deep breath, and the hall awaited his 'nothing to repent' speech... "MY NAME IS ALLEN FUCKING WALKER!" He yelled. "SAY IT WITH ME! ALLEN WALKER! A-L-L-E-N, W-A-L-K-E-R! GOD DAMMIT! WHY CANT ANYONE GET A SIMPLE NAME?!" Most people were quite amazed they hadn't burst out laughing nor fallen on the floor. Allen closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath before opening them again.

"Sorry had to get that out of my system, it's been bugging me for what? Two years now?" He shook his head in exasperation. "And the question was... what am I trying to do, right?" He asked, looking up again, eyes, newly deformed and the normal, locking in with Levirrier's. He could almost feel the repulsion as people looked at the left side of his face. "Well, I certainly don't want my own personal army," He said, "That's what the Pope wants... and sadly, has."

Several mutters escaped the crowd, but they were quickly silenced as Allen spoke again. "I'm just trying to live," He said, loudly, clearly, hoping everyone in the entire room could hear him. "I'm just trying to live," He repeated, "Is that so horribly wrong? To want to be alive and to want to do what you have to but still have your choices? I cant do everything, so I've tried to do a lot of things, but that hasn't worked out so well," He took another breath, "So I'm just doing what I can, and hopefully, I'll get something done. If not, I tried, and I at least had the choice of what I tried to do..." He looked sadly over at the new recruits. They flinched and tried to back away slowly. They had never seen nor faced a Noah before, but they knew of the terrifying powers they held. "They don't have that choice, so if they choose to stay right now, then I hope they're fine with what they've decided—"

"How do you even propose to escape?" Levirrier barked, interrupting Allen's spur-of-the-moment speech. "You are surrounded by Crows, and there are still exorcists at my disposal," He hissed, "There is no way of escape. You and your fellow traitors will be punished accordingly—"

Allen clicked his tongue in a highly annoyed way and interrupted Levirrier the same way Levirrier had interrupted him. "Please, sir, are you blind or do you truly have such sort term memory loss?"

Lenalee turned, her boots blazing with blue-green light as she grabbed Kanda's hand and fished Johnny out of the crowd withing moments of her complete activation. Allen closed the foot-long difference between him and Lavi, grabbing onto the older's clothes as the hammer extended and launched them in the direction of shattered fragments of sky— the Ark's gate, wide open and inviting.

And they vanished without Levirrier being able to say a word to stop them.

000

Moa Hasse had grown older. No, she did not have wrinkles just yet, but they were coming. As a lady in her mid-to-late twenties, it was expected she would be starting to look older. It was, after all, the eighteen hundreds. Most people lived from their late-twenties to forties. She was coming, but if she kept herself in good health, she was sure to live longer than most.

She was putting on her jacket to start her nighttime rounds. It had been a good ten years since she and Claire had moved from Sweden to the border of Germany, near a dock town to England, and it already felt so much like she had grown up there. How long had it been since Claire and Mark had died? Almost three years.

The memory, which had oddly crept into her mind, came flashing in with images of a young boy with white hair and a deformed arm. A soft, eviloping flash of white light and the sound of a chain breaking softly within Mark's body and Claire's soul. A good sound.

Moa fastened the latch on her helmet. Something was going to happen tonight, she had a feeling... _I wonder if I'm ever going to see Allen again..._ At that moment, there was a knock on the door. "Who in the world?" It was so late, she was certainly not expecting guests!

Moa quickly readied her gun and raised it so that she could shoot at any moment should the situation demand it. Sliding up to the door, one hand turned the knob as the other held her gun firmly, yet not tight enough to choke it. She swung the door open and spun so that her revolver was pointing directly at whomever might try to—

A stalk of incredibly familiar white hair. "S-sorry... miss Moa..." The familiar voice panted out, but it was older, deeper, more tired than when she had last heard it three years ago. "Can we bother you... for just a bit?"

"Allen!" Moa immediately dropped her gun, relieving the startled teenager with fiery red hair that Allen was leaning on. She slipped it back in her holder and stepped aside to allow the party of five into her house.

To be blunt, Allen looked awful. He was covered in burns— nothing overly serious, though. Just second degree, as though he had never touched the coals directly, but it still must have been incredibly painful. They were blistering as the red head helped him over to the couch Moa had gestured to on her moment of realization.

A young girl who looked somewhat Asian and an older man who might've been her brother if not for the difference in features followed in quickly behind them. The final intruding member was a boy about the same age as them, but shorter than even Allen. With frizzled hair and glasses. "I'm really sorry about this," The boy said the moment he was in the house.

Moa blinked but shook off her slight suprise. "It's no problem," She said before running off in the other direction to make a phone call. Something told her this was not something she should broadcast even the slightest bit. Even to the hospital. It was something you learned after serving in the police or the army, or anywhere almost, for so long. Trust your instincts and you have a better chance of seeing tomorrow.

Still. She would have to call in and report that she wasn't going to be able to do her rounds tonight. Otherwise it would lead to questions.

She reentered the living room and found Allen fast asleep and the others in some discussion or other.

"Will he be okay?"

"I'm sure he will. He's just exhausted and probably his mind's been put under a bit too much strain. We give him a while and he'll recover."

"He's been under strain for two years, I don't think he'll be the same person when he wakes up."

"We saw what he was like though, he might be a little more ready to hurt, but he's still mostly the same."

"I vote all the idiots shut up so we can discuss other matters. Beansprout'll pull through, end of story."

"I'm with Kanda, Allen can make it... so we have to be ready for when he wakes up again."

"How long do you think he'll be out this time?"

"Oi, did no one notice I said we needed to move on to other things right now?"

"Like what?"

"'What do we do now?' might work."

"Well... I say we fight."

"Yeah, but how do we get information? We've basically banned ourselves from the Order; they'll try to catch us every chance they can get."

"So we go without the Order, or we go behind their backs."

"We can somehow contact brother or Reever or Marv. It's not like we still don't have friends there."

"They'll be tracking all the golems now. They might have guessed we would try that."

"So what will happen to them?"

"With no proof, nothing."

"Oh..."

"Well... if we're cut off from information, where do we go next?"

"It's early October... I say we go somewhere warm."

"I never took you to be the type to hate the cold, Yu."

"Shut up."

"Well... first thing first, what are we going to do about Allen?"

"I thought we passed this topic?"

"If you havent noticed, his face is a twisted carnival. We arent going to get far without him being noticed."

"I have a mask." Moa flinched, instantly regretting speaking up when it obviously wasn't her conversation. Still, she really _did _have a mask, and for some reason, ever since the moment she saw it she had the feeling it belonged to Allen, somehow. Perhaps it was just the pale smoothness of the paint that seemed to match what she remembered of his skin, or maybe the marks that looked so much like his scar? It could even be the way it had been formed that it seemed almost made for his face.

The girl, whom had long black hair pulled into pigtails, stood up slowly and moved towards her. "Can we see it, please?" She asked politely. Moa smiled, then she realized she was still in her police uniform. She hastily unfastened her helmet and set it on the nearest table she found before turning to the stairwell and beginning to climb.

In the attic, there was a trunk. In the trunk was a brown paper package tied in a neat knot made of bailer twine. She rummaged in the back, looking for that specific black trunk with the bag in it. It took her almost five minutes, despite her house previously being destroyed by Allen when he caught the bullet (she was still not complaining) and most of her personal items had been lost. Still, you can collect a lot of junk in two or three years.

"Here it is!" She announced proudly, holding the package above her head as she weaved her way through the collections of junk to the Asian girl's side. In the dim light provided by the lanturn they had brought up, Moa fumbled to unwrap the package. Bailer twine was certainly not easy to untie, and in the end, she simply had to pull it off as it would not break, either.

What she unwrapped was a durable white mask that looked made for both combat and fashion. It was white and had a familiar red cross mark over the eye, and it was for the left side of the face. It was molded to lock onto the skin and stay there firmly, so it did not need to be held on with a string. It looked a perfect fit to Allen's face and features, from his not-overly-apparent cheek bones to his smaller nose and wider mouth. It was, in a thought, Cross's mask for only Allen.

Lenalee felt her eyes heat up. "Where did you get this, ma'am?" She asked quietly, so that she thought the blond police officer might not have noticed, but she couldn't seem to be able to ask it again.

Moa blinked curiously at the girl's reaction. She looked near tears. Was there something special about the mask she had not realized? "A year or two ago, a man came by here," She explained. "He was about to rest in the old church, but after a fiasco involving Allen, I wouldn't allow it, so he slept here instead." She said, remembering the insanity she had to go through as Allen practically destroyed the idea the world was peaceful.

"He didn't have any money, so he repaid me with that mask. He told me, 'eventually, someone will come through here who needs that mask. When they come, please give it to them,' and then he left." Moa said. It had certainly been an odd day, to say the least. She looked over to see if the girl was taking the news in a bad way, given her first reaction.

To her suprise, she was smiling. "I see." She turned and hurried back downstairs. "Guys! This is perfect! You seriously wont believe it!"

For a moment, Moa stood there in shock, but her face slowly changed to acceptance as a small smile formed. She ran downstairs as well, following the girl she would soon learn was called Lenalee. Down into the living room where her friends, Lavi, Kanda and Johnny all sat, awaiting the recovery of Allen Walker.

Allen Walker, whom was currently sleeping on the couch as Lavi and Johnny bandaged his wounds and put cream on the burns. He did have an expression on his face. A small, awkward smile, similar to the one he wore the day he met Moa for the first time.

And for some reason, Moa smiled when she saw he still could.

_Trying to bury the things that I've lost  
I've let go of my pride  
I'm going to take it back with my own two hands  
I can see the light of tomorrow_

**Final A/N is down here, just so I can say some things to you all...**

**first, this is my SECOND ever story I have finished! I seriously could not have gotten to chapter 13 and written it this well without everyone's reviews!! Really, you guys are making my life of school-till-five-thirty bearable!! **

**This isn't COMPLEETELY over, you know, right? Yep. You heard me. Excluding those who were still unsure, it was UNANIMOUS that there was going to be a sequel! It may be a bit before I get it up (but I swear, it wont be longer than a month!) since I need to update my other stories (I have found a threat that scares me even more than the chainsaw, amazingly enough, and so I'm rather inclined to obey it T.T don't hurt my arse, plz...I work better with my arse intact...)**

**the last song is the translation of 'Pride Of Tomorrow', by June, which is one of DGM's... either openings or endings, but I don't really remember right now, sorry. But it's one of them.**

**I stayed up LITERALLY to 4 AM to bring this to you, so... thank the lord for the weekend!! **

**(note: The idea for Allen's escape from the fire was inspired by the story of the fiery furnace in the bible. I was planning to say something, but by the end, this was already ten pages long.)**

**So, here I leave you, sword plays in my head, Ares the Vargant Soldier in my eyes, and sleep on my mind! If anyone likes, it'd be AWESOME to see a picture of Allen as I've deformed him to look (Allen: ...what? Why is everyone surprised I'm not killing her? If I killed her she wouldn't be able to finish the story!...well duh, I want her to finish!!) ...um... okay. Sooo... as I was typing... never mind, draw it if you'd like, send me a link, and I love you forever!!**

**Also, submit whatever you'd like to see in the epilogue! I already have a few events plnned out for stuff like Christmas and the end of the War, but everywhere in between is just waiting to be filled in, and if I don't get some ideas fast, it'll be nothing but philosophy and character's pasts... they'll sneak in there anyway, but gimme some beef! WHERE'S THE BEEF?!**

**DRAW/AKKY LOVED YOU ALL 8D (oh... right... disclaimer: Meesa doosa nata own teh fawsomenss tat ish D.Gray-Man. If you could translate that, good for you!)**


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